War and Peace: Ginny and Harry
by mpb1204
Summary: From Dumbledore's funeral to final battle. Follow the young lives of four brave, daring and most important, love struck teens. HPGW, RWHG. Please review!
1. Prologue

"Ginny, listen…" he said to me. "I can't be involved with you anymore. We've got to stop seeing each other. We can't be together."

His words pierced me like a dagger to the heart. I knew that they would be coming any day now, but as I sat holding his hand firm in my own while we watched as Dumbledore was finally being put to rest, I had not expected them. I couldn't help but notice how handsome he had looked in his emerald green dress robes, and I smiled a helpless, sad smile because I knew that he had once been mine. "It's for some stupid, noble reason, isn't it?" I said to him. My tone had not meant to be, but it came out as bitter.

He was vacantly watching ashundredsofwitches and wizards stood up from their seats to leave the funeral, until we were the only ones in a sea of white, collapsible chairs. "It's been like…like something out of someone else's life, these last few weeks with you," said Harry. "But I can't…we can't…I've got to do things alone now," he finished. I knew that this was hard for him, I knew because of the way he was absently twitching his thumbs. He always did that when he was nervous.I didn't say anything to him. I was paralyzed of my words; I was too upset to speak.

"Voldemort uses people his enemies are close to," he explained. "He's already used you as bait once, and that was just because you're my best friend's sister. Think how much danger you'll be in if we keep this up. He'll know, he'll find out. He'll try and get to me through you."

"What if I don't care?" Anger and frustration was boiling up inside me. I didn't care. He needed to know that I didn't care. I didn't care if Voldemort took me and tortured me in every way possible, as long as I was able to have more time with Harry.

"I care," he said heavily. "How do you think I'd feel if this was your funeral… and it was my fault…"

I bit my lip and looked away from him. I faced towards the lake, the same lake that had been the home of many warm, happy memories of carefree afternoons spent with him these past few weeks. "I never really gave up on you," I told him, "Not really. I always hoped…Hermione told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you, because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember?" I tried to smile a bit to lessen the discomfort between us. "And she thought you might take a bit more notice of me if I was a bit more- myself."

"Smart girl that Hermione," he said to me, making a sad attempt to smile also. "I just wish I'd asked you sooner. We could've had ages…months…years maybe…"

I wish that too, I thought to myself. Instead I said, "But you've been to busy saving the Wizarding world. Well I can't say I'm surprised. I knew this would happen in the end. I knew you wouldn't be happy unless you were hunting Voldemort. Maybe that's why I like you so much."

We sat there in a sad silence for a few moments, until he stood up and began to walk away. "Harry," I whispered softly at his back, but he didn't turn around, "I love you." I touched the side of my face as a hot tear began to stream down. I couldn't stop it.

I sat alone and cold on a warm June day. The hot sun was beating down the side of my face, probably burning my fair skin, but none of that mattered. Nothing mattered anymore.


	2. Bike Riding and Snogging

I ascended up the many staircases with my family to Dumbledore's vacant office. I looked around the lavishly decorated office for what very well could be the last time. Professor Dumbledore sat alone on a sheet of canvas wearing his celestial blue robes and half moon spectacles. "Molly, Arthur, good day to you," he said as he tipped his pointed hat and thenwe disappeared into a cloud of green smoke through the large, marble fireplace.

We arrived home in the shabby kitchen of the burrow. I went upstairs to my room where I sat and sulked for around an hour. It was a nice day and I knew that I needed to get out of the house. I changed out of my blue dress robes and into shorts, a green zip-up sweatshirt and sneakers. I stuck my wand in myback pocket as I walked outside through the kitchen and called out, "Mum! I'm going into town." A shabby red bike was nestled somewhere in the broom shed and I found it. Using one of mum's tricks, I muttered a charm and feathers sprouted out of the tip of my wand and I dusted off the bike.

I set off down the country dirt road, through the apple orchards and past the lake on my way to the village of Ottery St. Catchpole. Finally getting the hang of this muggle bike riding, I geared up faster, however all was lost when I met a small ditch in the middle of the road and fell off.

"Blimey!" I said as I picked myself up from the dirt road and brushed myself off. My knee was scraped up badly as the result of trip and fall from a flat tire on my bike. Not thinking, I pulled my wand out of the back pocket of my muggle cut offs. I touched the tip of my wand along the scrapes and bruises and they healed over magically. I then knelt to the side of my bike and magically refilled the tire with air. It was then that I heard that sharp gasp behind. I turned around slowly expecting the worst, a muggle.

"No way!" a silvery American accent emitted excitedly from a girl about my age. She was petite and had waist length, mahogany hair and eyes to match. Her mouth hung agape as she stared disbelievingly at the sight before her.

"Bloody hell," I whispered underneath my breath. I was aware of how fervently pale I must have become. I had not at all expected a muggle. It would only be moments away until the dreaded ministry owl arrived at the burrow. I could imagine the scary look on Mum's face and the disappointed look on dad's. I felt as if I was going to vomit.

"Is that a bih-sickel?" she asked me. I looked at her questioningly.

The girl smiled and laughed. She said, "Relax girl, you won't get in trouble." I looked at her questionably and she stuck her hand out towards me, "Charlotte. Charlotte Davis. My parents just bought a summer house down the road."

I hesitantly shook her hand and choked out, "oh…I'm Ginny Weasley."

"Pleasure to meet you, Ginny. Do you go to Hogwarts?" she asked with a smile. I immediately relaxed at once asI realized she was a witch. Still recovering from my near-to-almost-death experience I nodded my head and tried to catch my breath.

"Incredible. I never thought I would meet another witch around this tiny muggle town in the middle of nowhere," she said. I chuckled in agreement.

"Where do you go to school?" I asked.

"Salem Witches Academy," she said nonchalantly. I gasped. The Salem Witches Academy was the elite, reserved for the fifteen best witches in the year, from all around the world.

"You really go to Salem Witches Academy?" I asked in disbelief.

She laughed. "I'm not as talented as you are probably thinking, I'm just average. The only reason I go is because my parents pay a lot of money to get me in. It's the same with pretty much everyone elsethere," she paused and I nodded my head. "Hey, do you know Harry Potter?" she asked out of curiosity.

My head popped up, "of course," I answered. Then, unexpectedly I burst into tears. I fell down and sat in the tall grass and wildflowers on the roadside. Charlotte instinctively sat down next to me and put her arm around my shoulder soothingly. "I'm so sorry," I sobbed. I was so ashamed of myself for my behavior, "I'm a wreck."

I sobbed some more until she finally said, "Would you like to tell me what's wrong?"

"…sob…sob…I'm so sorry…sob…that I'm like this. Harry…sob…Potter…sob...broke up with me earlier this afternoon," I choked out between sobs, "at our headmaster's funeral!" I almost shrieked.

She enveloped me into her slender arms and said gently, "Ginny, cheer up. He's a loser, I bet, if he dumped you," I managed out a small smile. "Come on," she said to me, "let's go into town. I will buy you a soda."

"A…soda?" I said, wiping thetears from my eyes,"What's that?"

"Its like the muggle form of butterbeer- only better," she said.

"I'm so sorry," I said as she helped me up, "You must think I'm a mess, crying like that."

"Don't worry, all break ups are hard," she told me.

She walked down the road with me side by side, as I slowly rode my bicycle to keep up with her pace. "Hey, did you say your last name was Weasley?" she asked me. A thought just processed through her head and she had a vacant look in her eye.

"Yeah, why?" I asked curiously.

"Are you related to Arthur Weasley?" she asked.

"Yeah, he's my dad," I said absentmindedly.

Her head spun around so fast that it almost scared. "Are you serious!" she said excitedly, "Arthur Weasley as in Arthur Weasley _the_ muggle enthusiast!"

"Yes…" I answered. I was getting really confused.

"I am a HUGE fan," she gushed. "All of that research…all of those articles he wrote…I just find it riveting!"

I was astonished. I had never heard of anyone so into the same interests of my father, let alone my father's muggle artifacts and such. "I saw his battatery collection in an article in "The Muggle Artifact Digest," and I saved it and it is hanging up on my bedroom wall," she went on, "I still can't get over all the new information on the DD battatery he has discovered!"

"Well I reckon you must meet him," I told my father's adoring fan.

"Oh! I would love nothing more!" she said passionately.

"Would you like to come over for dinner?" I asked.

"Are you sure it will be all right with your parents? I mean, I don't want to impose or anything," she said.

"I'm sure it will be fine. Its almost dinner time anyways, my house is just up this way," I said to her. We turned around and I led her through a shortcut which took through the woods that Fred and George had discovered years ago. I left my bike against the broom shed and walked past the chicken coop and in through the kitchen door with my guest in tow.

Mum was sitting in a wooden straight backed chair as she supervised magically shelling pees and boiling chicken soup. "Hello mum," I said to her. "This is my friend, Charlotte Davis; I just met her, is it all right if she stays over for dinner?"

I watched as mum jumped. "Ginny, please take her around back for a moment," mum said nervously, as she tried to cover the magically shelling pees with her apron.

"Mum…it's all right. Charlotte's a witch." Mrs. Weasley breathed a sigh of relief and turned around to face the American witch.

"I am so sorry," she said to Charlotte as she crushed her in one of her famous hugs. "I thought you were a muggle. There haven't been any witches and wizards living around here for years…well besides the Lovegoods, but you're not Luna, and the Diggory's don't have a daughter…well, neither do the Fawcett's," she said in thought. "I'm so sorry, I'm rambling." Charlotte laughed. "I am Mrs. Weasley. Lovely to meet you my dear, make yourself at home," she turned around and began to wash dishes. "Ginny, love," she cocked her head at me, "please introduce her to the rest of the family, I must get back to watching dinner cook."

I led Charlotte through the kitchen door into the hustle and bustle of the Weasley family living room. She gasped as she saw the copious amount of people cramped into it. "Are you having a party?" she asked me, eyes wide with amazement as she viewed the large display of orange hair that the Weasley's were known for.

I laughed. "No this is just my family…here I will introduce you," I said, just as Fred and George came up to us.

"Ginny, who is this lovely young woman who has accompanied you home to dinner?" George asked the question charmingly, which was more directed at Charlotte.

"I'm Charlotte Davis, my parents just bought a summer home down the road," she answered.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Davis, I am Fred Weasley, of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," Fred said as he kissed her hand, letting his lips linger for a little longer than necessary. George followed suit.

"However,we arequite sorry," George said.

"But we are afraid we have important business to be attended to," Fred finished, as the pair took off up the old, creaky stairs, deep in conversation.

Then a gruesome looking wizard accompanied by a beautiful, adoring witch appeared in front of me. "Bill!" I cried as I jumped into my older brother's arms and gave him a hug.

"How was school, Gin?" he asked me.

"It was fine…until…well you know, with you and Dumbledore and everything," I finished. Then there was a solemn silence which was broken by Fleur.

"Ginny…eet ees so nice to zee you again, since ze attack," she looked at Bill sadly. I had never disliked Fleur as much as I had let on. The only reason I made fun of her was because it always made Harry laugh. Fleur gave me a kiss on each cheek and I then introduced them to Charlotte.

"Bill, we must be going. I have to apply 'ze ointment for your cuts now," Fleur told him.

"See you later, Gin, and nice to meet you, Charlotte," he said as Fleur escorted him to the downstairs bathroom with a tube of nasty ointment in hand.

Charlotte turned to me, "May I meet your father now?"

I looked around for him, "Hmm…." I murmured. "Hey Tonks!" I yelled across the room to the bubblegum pink-haired witch relaxing against Remus Lupin. "Is my father still at work?"

"Yeah," she responded. "I checked up on him before I left. He should be here any minute."

"Charlotte," I said to my guest. "Let's go upstairs, I want to introduce you to my brother Ron and our friends." We ascended the staircase as walked down to the end of the hall on the third story. As we were walking towards Ron's room, we were taken by surprise as Harry walked out of the bathroom on our way.

"Ginny!" he exclaimed. We shared an awkward hug and I said to Harry, "This is my friend Charlotte Davis. She goes to The Salem Witches Academy, in the United States." Harry shook her hand and introduced himself.

"How was the Dursley's?" I asked him.

He laughed untruthfully and replied, "Dreadful, as usual." I saw the sadness in his eyes and I knew that it didn't go as well as he had hoped. I smiled a sympathetic smile and fought the urge to place my hand above his and give it a reassuring squeeze, telling him that everything would be all right. Instead, I fiddled with my wand as the three of us walked together towards Ron's room. I placed my hand against the weathering brass doorknob and turned it as quietly as possible. The scene we walked in upon was something we certainly had not expected.

Laying together lip locked on Ron's obnoxious orange Chudley Cannons themed bedspread was Hermione and my brother. While Harry and I found this hysterical, Ron's ears were turning a hot, dangerous red and Hermione was blushing as well.

Ron and Hermione stood together like two young children being scolded for eating cookies before dinner. This only made Harry and I laugh harder and before we knew it we were on the floor, clutching our sides while Ron and Hermione alternated choruses of "Shut up, guys." On the floor, Harry and laid side by side on our backs, our heads tilted towards each other. We were no longer laughing, but looking at each other intently. I was almost certain that Harry would kiss me, but instead he stood up and pulled me up with him. We started laughing again and we saw the hurt embarrassed looks on the recently outedcouple's faces.

"We're sorry…we're sorry," Harry choked out before he was once again overcame by laughter.

I, however, was able to pull myself together easier and I said earnestly, "Ron, Hermione, congratulations, we are very happy for you."

"You know what this reminds me of," Ron said to us with looks that could kill. "It reminds me of that time that Harry kissed Ginny in front of all of Gryffindor." Harry, Hermione and I all looked around awkwardly before I changed the subject and introduced Charlotte. When Charlotte said that she went to The Salem Witches Academy, Hermione began bombarding her with questions about it and expressing her desire to complete two years of schooling there after Hogwarts.

At exactly 6:30, we went downstairs to join everyone for dinner. All of us except for Charlotte were unfazed at the amount of people gathered at the long farm table. My parents, Fred and George, Bill and Fleur, Remus and Tonks, Charlie and a beautiful witch with long, dark hair who rivaled even Fleur in looks, and most surprising of all, was Percy, were all sitting at the table.

The five us took places next to each other as my mother stood up. "Attention everyone," she said. "I would like to make an announcement." She looked around at the intently listening family. "Most of you have already met our guest, Charlotte Davis. It is a pleasure to have you dear," my mother grinned at Charlotte. She continued, "On other matters," her voice cracked and she broke into joyous tears, "I would like to welcome our son, Percy, back into the family." He received a few weak smiles and a pat on the back from my father, but mostly glares and looks of disgust from our brothers and I. "Also, Charlie has an announcement he would like to make." My mother sat down and Charlie stood up.

He placed his hand on the dark haired witch's slim shoulder. "I would like to introduce everyone Irina Vladimirescu. Irina, you've already met my parents, this is Fred and George," he motioned towards the twins, "my younger sister, Ginny," I lifted my hand up in a small wave and smiled, "my younger brother Ron," Ron smiled dreamily at Irina. What a sucker, I thought to myself of my older brother. Charlie went on, "my brother Bill, his fiancé, Fleur…and our friends Hermione Granger, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks and Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter?" the beautiful witch lifted her dark eyes up towards Harry.

"Erm…hello. Nice to meet you," he muttered, obviously embarrassed.

"Harry Potter? The boy who liffed?" she said in accented English in disbelief.

"Yes, Irina. Harry is an old friend of Ron's," my mother said unecessarily. Irina sat up from her seat and walked towards Harry. He flinched as she pushed his hair back and ran her long, manicured finger along his scar.

"Vhoa! It is really you, Harry Potter. I have alvays vanted to meet you," she shook his hand fervently and smiled a row of straight gleaming teeth.

"_Hem..hem,_" my mother cleared her throat and all attention was reverted to her. "Aren't you forgetting someone, Charlie?" my mother said quietly.

"Oh, yes, and Percy," Charlie said. He spat out his brother's name like vermin. "Anyways," he continued, "Irina and I have been seeing each other for the past two years, and I have asked her to marry me." Irina's and Charlie's smiles were contagious as they accepted congratulations from everyone, everyone except Fleur, that is. She glared at Irina, who glared back just as evenly and just as rudely.

Bill escorted Fleur into the kitchen to speak to her about her sudden attitude. I was sitting nearest to the kitchen door and I was able to hear, "I want 'er gone! She eez stealing my thunder! 'Zis dinner was supposed to be about our wedding plans! Not 'zheir stupid engagement!"

"Fleur, calm down," Bill said in a smooth tone, "It's not a big deal and you know it. Fleur….there is something else wrong, isn't there, sweetie."

I drowned out their conversation. I shouldn't have been listening in the first place. Charlotte was speaking of muggle artifacts with my father.

"…I would love to get my hands on one of those oncompatooters one day," my father said dreamily.

"You mean a computer, Mr. Weasley?" Hermione commented, trying to supress a giggle.

"Yes! A com-pyoo-ter," he said defiantly. "Yes a computer! Thank you, Hermione." He turned to Charlotte. "Say, Charlotte. Are you of age yet?"

"My seventeenth birthday is on Friday," she said to him.

"Marvelous!" he told her. "I was wondering. Well, the other day I acquired a muggle radio and I want to give it a look, would you like to help me?"

"Are you serious, Mr. Weasley?" she said excitedly, her eyes were wide with joy. "I would love to! Thank you so much!"

"All right, then join me at the burrow Sunday around noon and we shall give a look together. What do you say?"

"Terrific, Mr. Weasley. I will definitely be there," she told him.

Then, everybody fell silent as we heard a gasp from the kitchen.


	3. Ginny's Room

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. **

_Magdalene Rose- Thank you so much for your review! I would also like to thoroughly thank sjbaby91 for your review. You see, sjbaby91 is one ofmy BFFAEAEAEAEAE! I actuallyknow her in person.Anyways, everyone have fun seeing the HPGOF this week! _

Harry's POV

I was one of the only wizards on the Hogwarts Express. Most of the others went home with their parents. I sat in a compartment Dean Thomas, whose parents were muggles and were obviously not at the funeral. This was the first train ride on the violet colored steam engine that I was not accompanied by Ron. I sighed at the fact, and missed Hermione (who traveled Floo to the burrow with the Weasleys) just as much.

As the train pulled away from Hogsmeade Station, I couldn't pull my eyes away from the castle I had known as my home for the past six years. I wasn't able to face the fact that I may never see the huge, stone castle with the four towers (Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin) topped by the huge astronomy tower in the center. I sighed once more.

After hours of overplayed exploding snap, chocolate frogs cards and the unspoken awkwardness of Ginny Weasley, I emitted from the train to find a humiliated-for-my-very-existence Dursley family. We made our way to Uncle Vernon's new blue company sedan that he was so proud of. "Don't touch anything, boy," hesneered at me, his yellow teeth exposed and his hairline as receding as ever, "it's a new car."

During the long car ride back to Little Whinging, I lay my head against the window, ignoring Uncle Vernon's request to not to touch anything. I looked up into the clouds, the very same clouds where I had traveled through many a time to hold the golden snitch firmly in my palm. Right now, I was sure that my mum, my dad, and Sirius were sitting on a similar fluffy white cloud somewhere, drinking Madame Rosmerta's Finest Oak Matured Mead and reminiscing of the golden days spent as Marauders. Dumbledore had just arrived with cookies and the latest tales of me. He was beckoned into a luxurious cloud chaise lounge and told everyone that had ever loved me of how I was doing. I imagined my mums eyes would sparkle when she heard about Ginny; my father would swell with pride when he heard that I had been made quidditch captain; and I was sure Sirius would howl in laughter at how I had cheated my way through potions.

Yet, somewhere in the deep, dark depths of my mind, I couldn't help but accusing my parents of selfishness. First, they had left me alone to fend for myself in a small, cramped cupboard under the stairs, facing abuse each and every day for years. Then, once when I had found someone who I could in the least bit call a father, they took him from me just two years later. And now it was Dumbledore gone. Had it been mum and dad doing this to me?

After Dumbledore passed, I realized I would never be able to love anyone without getting hurt. It was just the way my life had worked out. I had figured I should break up with Ginny until we delve in too deep and then it all breaks down and falls apart. I was being selfish now. I knew that Ginny had loved me, and now she was the one getting hurt. I couldn't face myself, so I pushed it to the wayback of my mind.

The car pulled into the small, flat paved driveway of number 4 Privet Drive. Earlier that day, I had shrunken my trunk so it now fit in the pocket of my jeans. This is the last time I will ever have to be here, I thought to myself as I walked up the stairs covered in immaculate white carpet. I pushed open the door to my dreary, dusty room and gathered a few random belongings. There were some socks and old Christmas sweaters from Mrs. Weasley. I found a pile of old school books in the back of my closet which I would sell to the second-hand store in Diagon Alley later this week. There really wasn't much else in my room at all; besides someempty bags of Bertie Botts every flavour beans. Oh! I had just remembered the food I had left under a loose floorboard two summers ago. I lifted it open with my foot and held my breath as the stench rose from the spoiled leftovers of birthday cake and potato chips. "_Evanesco" _I muttered at the mess and it disappeared with a flick of my wand.

I sat at my desk chair and awaited dusk. The noise of the electric garage door opening filled my ears and I heard a deep voice yell, "Bye, Petty," as a car drove away. Out of my window, I saw a fat head in the driver seat of the blue sedan and a fat head in the passenger seat as well.

I had dozed off to sleep and I heard a knock upon my door, "come in," I murmured tiredly. Aunt Petunia stood at the doorway of my room holding a long, wooden box. She sat on my bed and said to me earnestly, "Harry, I need to tell you something."

"What?" I said rudely, "Make it quick, I'm leaving in five." I told her as I noticed the sudden change to nightfall outside my window.

"Harry, there is something I need to say to you and I have put it off for a long time," she said.

"Oh…well…where should I start?" she asked rhetorically. "Well, your mum and I weren't exactly muggles," she began. My head shot straight up and I looked at her in disbelief. "Our parents were squibs, who had chosen to live as muggles.

"Lily was older than me only by ten months. When she got her Hogwarts letter, our parents were thrilled. They had expected to breed two thoroughly nonmagical children, like themselves. It was quite the opposite. You see, Harry, not only Lily was a witch, I was one too," she hung her head in shame. I was too appalled to speak.

"I was popular at school and I was frightened what my friends and boyfriend would think if they found out I was a witch. I severed contact with them completely and finished my seven years at Hogwarts," she said cheerily. She opened the long, wooden box and pulled off a layer of dark green velvet, to reveal a thin, polishedmahogany wand, which she held loosely in between her thumbs.

I was so fuming mad that steam was probably coming out of my ears, I yelled at her, "You mean for the past sixteen years you have subjected me to torture and discrimination all the while you were one of my own kind!" she looked sick, yet, so was I. She widenedhersmall eyes at my reaction."I am leaving now, move out of my way before I hex you!"Petunia backed off wordlessly as I stormed down the stairs and out the front door.

Ithrew my invisibility cloak over me, mounted my Firebolt and took off into the warm, clear night.

My flight to the burrow had not taken as long as I had expected. Ilanded next to the broom shed, where I placed my Fireboltupright next to Ron's Cleansweep. I entered through the kitchen to find Mrs. Weasley preparing dinner. She was washing vegetables underneath the sink in a strainer.

"Hello Harry," she said to me as she noticed my presence, "would you like anything to eat, dear?"

"No thank you Mrs. Weasley, I will wait until dinner," I told her.

"Smart boy, you wouldn't want to ruin your appetite," she smiled up at me and said helpfully, "Ron and Hermione are upstairs in Ron's room."

"Thanks Mrs. Weasley," I said as she scurried off promptly asher geniuskitchen clock changed from "start preparing dinner" to "feed the chickens."

I climbed the stairs up to the fifth landing to Ron's room, but without thinking, I stopped at the third level. From where I was standing, I could see through the open door of Ginny's girly bedroom.Walking towards it,I saw a heap of Hogwarts trunks in the center of the room. Her bedroom was small and smelt of flowers. There was an antique brass bed in the center of the room, decorated with a canopy of white, soft net like material. An over washed floral bedspread covered the bed and the walls were adorned in posters of the Weird Sisters, theHolyhead Harpiesand Gilderoy Lockhart. She had a WWN (Wireless Wizarding Network) perched upon her old, oak dresser. A dusty chandelier hung from the water-cracked ceiling and there was an old, broken dollhouse in the corner of the room which looked like it had not been played with in a long time. A set of blue dress robes were loosely slung over the back of a wooden desk chair, the same ones she had worn to the funeral, I remembered.

I sat down at a tufted vanity stool and sorted through a pile of tangled jewelry until I came across asilver bracelet that I had bought for her one day in Hogsmeade. I remembered the beautiful smile she had on her face as I had clasped it around her tiny wrist as we sat by the lake. It was so small that it wouldn't have been able to fit over half of my wrist, but I remember it fitting perfectly around hers. Lost in thought, I glanced at a gold timepiece hanging from a knob on her vanity. My eyes shot towards the window as I viewed a flowing mane of red hair walking to the back door that could only belong to Ginny. I gently placed the bracelet back where I had found it and got up and left the room.

The door closed silently behind me and I guiltily continued my way up the narrow flight of stairs. I finally reached the fifth landing, but I stopped at the bathroom first on my way to Ron's Room. I looked in the mirror above the sink and smoothed out my windswept hair. I washed my hands and dried them with an old towel with several holes on it. I opened the door, only to find Ginny and a friend in front of me. A look of shock registered on both of our faces and I hugged her awkwardly, only wanting to crush her in my arms and kiss her hairline and tell her I loved her, just like I used too.

She introduced me to a small, thin American witch with long brown hair named Charlotte. She had gone to the Salem Witches Academy, which really impressed me and I shook her hand and introduced myself.

"How was the Dursley's?" Ginny asked me.

The last thing that I wanted to do was talk about it. I lied and said it was fine. Together we walked towards the flashy orange sign that said "Ronald's Room," hanging crookedly from a rusty nail. The inside of Ron's room was as if you were stuck on the inside of a quidditch playing tangerine. If I had not noticed Hermione's wild bushel of hair, I would not have noticed my best friend Ron, lying on top of her. They were engrossed in snogging and I had to make a little cough to announce my presence. Looking up at us in shock and humiliation, they stumbled off each other and Ginny and I started hysterically laughing.


	4. Fleur's Confessions

**SJ- thank you so much for editing this chapter. And thank you to everyone who reviewed. I'm sorry this is short, but it is important. A really long and good chapter will be coming up soon, I promise. Please review. **

"…I have asked Irina to marry me," Charlie said, gloating. There was an evident look of displeasure on Fleur's face. Bill gave his fiancée a questioning glance and they entered the kitchen together.

"What's wrong?" Bill asked his younger fiancée.

"I want 'er gone! She eez stealing my thunder! 'Zis dinner was supposed to be about our wedding plans! Not 'zheir engagement!"

"Who? Irina? Ginny? My mother? Charlotte? Hermione? Tonks?...who do you want gone, Fleur?" Bill asked her.

"Irina," she answered through gritted teeth.

"Fleur, calm down," Bill said in a smooth tone, "It's not a big deal and you know it. Fleur….there is something else wrong, isn't there."

"Oh..Bill!" she cried as she threw herself into his arms. "Oh! Bill! 'Eet ees awful," she sobbed. He patted her hair gently while wondering what was wrong.

She stood up straight and looked away. "Bill," she said as she bit her lip, "Bill, 'zere ees something I need to tell you."

He didn't answer, he just waited for her to go on. "Bill, we will need to move 'ze wedding forward, my muzzer 'ees sick."

"Oh, Fleur," he hugged her close and she rested her head into his shoulder. He let her cry for a few minutes longer and then wiped away her tears with his sleeve. Her pretty face was hot and streaked with tears. Long blond hair stuck to her wet cheeks and her clear blue eyes were rimmed with redness.

"…Bill," she said quietly, "'zere 'ees no cure, she cannot be treated." Bill's heart sank one hundred miles to see the one he loved so upset.

"So she will…," he began, fearing the worst.

"Yes, she will," Fleur confirmed.

"I guess we will move the wedding up then," Bill said.

"Yes…yes, we will," Fleur answered. They began to walk hand in hand back towards the kitchen door, when Fleur's hand stopped at the knob and began to tremble.

He placed his hand on the small of her back and she looked him straight in the eye. "'zere 'ees one more thing," she said.

He waited for her to continue. "I am pregnant, Bill," he looked at her disbelievingly, "with twins," she said. He gasped.


	5. Seduction

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, yet I _do_ own my own copy of books 1-6**.

**Thank you so much to everyone that reviewed- griffindor-girl12, BexyLou and CassMaxwell13. And as always, SJ, thank you so much. Guess what everybody! Next Sunday is my birthday (dec. 4) and I want you all to give me a birthday present- a review!**

Ginny's POV

My brother Bill and his fiancée entered the dining room looking glum. Before anyone could question them, Bill said glumly, "We have an announcement.

Bill held tightly on to Fleur's hand and let her take the floor, "'ze wedding will need to be moved up," she paused, "my muzzer is very sick and she most likely won't make it to 'ze date we have set," Fleur finished with tears streaming intensely down her face. "I hope 'zat 'zis will be all right."

"Oh! Fleur, honey, don't worry," my mother stood up and held her future daughter-in-law closely and clucked maternally as they both cried? "Perhaps...we should have the wedding at the burrow?" my mother said. Everyone knew it was her greatest wish, for each of her seven children to get married at the burrow.

I looked over at Irina and Charlie, who obviously looked annoyed, wanting to talk about their own wedding. I knew that no matter what, Fleur would always find a way to be the center of attention.

A heated family discussion began and Charlotte stood up to leave. She thanked my parents and told me that she would floomunicate with me tomorrow. She was obviously uncomfortable and I didn't press her to stay.

Yet, I couldn't help but wonder, were Bill and Fleur hiding something else? My eyes shortly zoomed in on Fleur's stomach, which shehad been absentmindedly touching and running her fingers across all night. I shook my head, no; I thought to myself, it can't be…can it?

I completely removed the current situation from my mind because I had a brilliant idea of my own. It came to me as I watched Harry. His fierce green eyes, messy black hair and quidditch toned body seduced me as my eyes danced around him. I could tell he was lost deep in thought, as he has been many times. I licked my lips as I made it a point for him to notice me as I excused myself from the table. I shook my long hair behind me and threw a suggestive glance in his direction. I was going to seduce the famous Harry Potter.

HARRY'S POV

I saw Ginny getting up and leaving the table. I excused myself as well, although no one heard me. I felt I should follow her upstairs and I did, quietly.

I found Ginny in her room. The door was slightly open and a single lamp lit the room with a warm yellow glow. She was changing into a pair of pink silk pajamas and I stood by her doorway, just watching her. Her smooth hair ruffled as she pulled the thin pajama shirt over her head. It was a pale pink tank top and I was able to see through it completely. It was paired with short, matching shorts that were trimmed in lace. She scooped her thick hair into a loose ponytail that rested on her shoulder.

She sat down at her vanity. Removing her jewelry, she set it in the pile with all the rest. I watched her as her slim hand roamed the tangled pile and found the small silver bracelet I had given her. She ran her fingers across the dangling, gold heart and around the links.

She began brushing her hair as she watched herself in the mirror and then she jumped. "Harry" she said behind her.

"Hi…sorry," I stammered, "maybe I should…I'm sor…you know what, I'm just gonna go."

"No, Harry, come in," she said smoothly. She pushed up the thin strap of her tank top, which was loosely falling to the side of her shoulder. "How long were you out there for?"

"Oh, maybe just a minute," I lied. She nodded and smiled serenely. Standing up, she pulled the floral covers off of her bed and got in.

"Come sit," she motioned to the bed. I picked a spot all the way at the end, maintaining a safe distance. She removed her wand from her bedside table and pointed it at the curtains, which magically closed, and the lamp, which magically went out. She also shut her door and locked it with a flick of her wand. Flames rose from conjured candles set up around her room. I was getting suspicious, yet excited.

I placed my right leg over my left, hiding what was happening to me as I watched her. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. I felt I should have said something, but my words were caught in my throat.

"Harry, I have quite a weird favor to ask you," she said half laughing as she threw her hair over her shoulder seductively, revealing more of her chest.

"What is it?" I asked.

She looked me straight in the eye. Once again, her soft brown eyes were filled with that hard, blazing look that I knew and loved. "Harry," she said softly, "will you please kiss me?"

Had I not been sitting down, I would have fallen to the ground out of shock. There could not have been a more forward request then the one she just made. "Ginny, are you serious?" There was nothing I wanted to do more, well there was something I wanted to do more, but we were constantly under the watchful eye of Mrs. Weasley. If I did kiss her, I didn't want Ginny to regret it tomorrow morning.

"Harry, please," her eyes fluttered softly and I couldn't help myself. I moved closer to her and kissed her gently on her upper lip. She wrapped her slim arms around my neck and I deepened the kiss. I lifted her up into my lap and she opened her mouth slightly to allow my tongue to enter. I grasped a handful of her hair and she pressed herself against me. We fell down and we were lying on the bed, grasping each other tightly. With our legs intertwined, my hand freely roamed the area beneath her shirt that I had longed for.

"Hem...hem," someone cleared their throat from the doorway, "maybe you should go Harry." Bloody hell, I thought to myself. We broke apart and I looked up, only to see Fred and George. They looked raging mad and as if they were going to punch me right here and now. "Harry! If we ever again catch you snogging our sister, we swear, we WILL use _avada kedavra_ on you!" Fred raged.

I got up and as I walked out the door, I reminded them softly, "Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes," with a smirk.

"Watch yourself, Harry," George said. The twins, mine and Ginny's faces were all bright red.

"Good night, Ginny," I said to her politely as I turned around to leave. Catching one last glimpse, she looked like an angel. Her fair skin was adorned with rosy cheeks and bright brown eyes. Her red hair fell down her back in synchronized waves and her beautiful smile shined at me with cheeks flushed from embarrassment and lust.

"'Night Harry," she responded with a flushed smile.

please review!


	6. Flying Lessons

**Thank you to griffindor-girl12 for reviewing and also SJ (of course). MY BIRTHDAY IS ON SUNDAY! **

HARRY'S POV

"Oi! Harry," Fred and George stopped me on my way down the stairs for breakfast.

"Harry, ever since you have gave us the money to start our shop," Fred began.

"We haven't been able to think of enough ways to repay you," George said, then turning to Fred, "would you like to do the honors, Fred?"

"Yes, I would George, thank you," Fred said to his brother. Then he said to me, "In order of your upcoming seventeenth birthday, we are throwing you the birthday party of a lifetime."

"You see," George continued, "we have arranged it so that our parents will be out for a ten course meal with the Delacour's. There is an extensive guest list and a surprise musical performance by someone who, believe me, you will want to see." Fred nodded his head in agreement. Perhaps it was their friend Lee Jordan, who had been trying to brake into the record business for some time now since Hogwarts.

"Umm…thanks guys, I don't know what to say," I truly didn't know what to say. I was really confused at their behavior. Last night they looked like they were ready to kill me.

"No problem mate," they said in unison as they patted me on the back and went to their room which had been emitting explosions and different color smokes and smells all night last night.

I sighed and followed the smell of bacon and eggs to the Weasley kitchen. Ginny sat at the weathering table and threw a chaste smile in my direction.

"Hey Gin," I said to her as I sat down next to her at the table. Mrs. Weasley eyed us curiously as she served us our plates and Ginny bade me good morning.

We ate breakfast in a comfortable silence, acting like nothing had happened the night before. Ginny read the headlines in the Daily Prophet while I read the comics. Then the kitchen door swung open and Ron entered followed closely by Hermione. "Morning," Ron nodded at Ginny and I as he stuffed his mouth full of toast and gulped it down with a glass of orange juice, followed by a loud belch. Hermione groaned at his monstrous manners and went back to looking over Ginny's shoulder at the Daily Prophet.

"Harry, mate," Ron said to me, "after breakfast, lets have a two on two match, me and you against Hermione and Ginny, what do you say?"

Ron got a positive answer from Ginny and I, while Hermione went stark white. "What's wrong, 'Mione?" Ron said to her curiously.

"Mmm…nothing," she answered. I looked at her with a look that purely said "I know you are hiding something."

"It's…it's just that I don't really fly," Hermione finally said.

"What!" I choked on my pumpkin juice.

"Didn't Madame Hooch teach you?" Ginny asked her.

"Well, yeah a bit, but I usually found an excuse not to be there. I'm quite scared of heights, actually," Ron, Ginny and I were probably looking at her like she had three heads.

"Sorry," she said weakly.

"It's no problem, Hermione," Ron said to her as he patted on her shoulder and she breathed a sigh of relief. "We'll just teach you," he finished.

"No! No….no way. No!" she said nervously.

"C'mon 'Mione, it will be fun," I said to her.

"Please don't make me," she pleaded.

"Hermione, that's that. We're teaching you how to fly whether you like it or not," Ginny finalized.

"On…no," Hermione moaned and looked down at her corn flakes.

After breakfast, I walked down to the broom shed. Over to my right was the quidditch pitch, where Ron stood calming Hermione down. Entering the creaky shack that was donned "the broom shed," I hung my head low so a spider wouldn't happen to fall on my face. I grabbed my Firebolt and Ron's old Shooting Star for Hermione to use. I turned around and walked back through the doorway.

Before I knew what was happening, a sweet, floral scent surrounded me and I stumbled as I was pushed back into the broom shed by the force of a small hand. Ginny kissed me fervently as she ran her small hands through my messy hair. She moaned softly as I kissed her down her neck. After a few minutes, I remembered something and I pulled back. "Ginny?" I said to her.

"Mmm…" she answered.

"Well…this morning, I passed Fred and George on the stairs and they acted like nothing had happened," I told her, "Erm..do you know anything about it?"

She giggled. "I performed a memory charm on them after you left," she said.

"Ok, good," I answered, and I pulled her back on to me and we resumed our kissing.

"Wait, Ginny, one more thing," I said, pulling back again.

She groaned, annoyed, "yes, Mr. Potter?"

"What's going on between us?" I asked nervously.

After a few seconds of thinking, she answered, "maybe a friends with benefits kind of thing for now…and we will see where we are in a week or so. Ok?"

I was sort of relieved, yet sort of crushed at her answer, I couldn't explain why. I kissed her softly on the lips and it was her who pulled back this time. "Harry, we should go back outside, they will be wondering where we are," she said to me and I nodded in agreement. She pulled her broom out from a cluttered pile of quidditch equipment and brooms and then opened the door, exposing fresh daylight. We walked towards the quidditch pitch as if nothing had happened.

RON'S POV

Hermione stood at the end of the quidditch pitch, leaning against the goal post for unnecessary support. She looked beautiful, I gasped to myself, although her face was sickly pale and she was shaking with nerves. To me; she was something like a goddess. Her brown curls were swept into a ponytail and unruly wisps of frizzy hair stuck out from along her hairline. The soft features that made up her face were trying to look brave and defiant, maybe even smile. She was wearing a grey muggle tracksuit and blue trainers. Even in such a plain outfit, she could still take my breath away. I stood where I was for about five minutes, just staring at this beautiful girl.

Then I walked towards her and with no words, for no words were needed, I enveloped her in my arms and she buried her head in my chest. At that moment, an extreme feeling came over me, one I had never felt before. It felt as though dozens of elephant sized packages of Dr. Filibuster's Wet Start, No Heat Fireworks were emitting from my heart continuously and I knew I would never be the same old Ronald Weasley ever again. I was in love.

Our embrace was broken Harry and Ginny came towards us and she took my old Shooting Star from Harry's outstretched hand. I watched as she ran her hand across the smooth, weathering wood of the broom. It reminded me of something she did to me just the other night…

"Hey! Ronniekins! Come teach your girlfriend how to fly," Ginny yelled to me. I walked over to the trio with my Cleansweep in hand.

"Now Hermione, hold your hand above the broom," Harry instructed her. She did and the broom flew directly up in to her hand. "Now mount it," Harry said. Hermione followed suit and mounted the broom as gently as possible. She was trying her best to control her anxious shaking and I walked over to her and placed my hand at the smile of her back. Immediately, she melted and calmed at my touch. It felt riveting to know that I had so much effect on the feelings of my girlfriend. The same girl who I had constantly bickered with for many years, while at the same time, containing the feelings that I had for her.

Our eyes met and she smiled sweetly at me with her red lips and soft brown eyes, and I smiled in return. I backed away from her as Harry helped her ascend on her broom. Hermione was now hovering at about 20 feet in the air. "Yeah Hermione!" I yelled.

"Oh, shut it Ron!" she shrieked down at me nervously. I laughed quietly to myself as she lost her balance and almost fell off her broom. I was still trying to get over the fact that she had never properly learned how to fly. I then felt the need to be up in the air with her and I grabbed my broom. In a matter of seconds, I was by her side in the air; by her side was the only place that I ever wanted to be. She closely followed the tail of my broom as I showed her how to turn, flip, circle around and do the many other basics that one needs to know for flying.

"Ron?" she said to me. I was barely able to hear her over the loud noise of the wind around us.

"Yes?" I turned around to face her. She once again was looking pale and nervous.

"Umm…can we maybe go back down now?" she asked.

"Sure, come on," I said.

"Erm…Ron?" I stopped and faced her once more. "I don't think I can go down by myself, I'm too nervous?" she spattered out.

"All right," I said as I lifted her off of her broom and on to mine_. "Descentio"_ I said as I twirled my wand lamely, sending the old Shooting Star back to the ground. I sat Hermione down in front of me, keeping her safe as we descended together smoothly back to the quidditch pitch.

please review!


	7. Rivalry

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed. Today is my birthday. I'm sorry I haven't updated this in awhile- so enjoy! Also, thank you SJ!(especially for the Harry Potter scene it and the venus vibrance)**

GINNY'S POV

"GINNY!" my mother's voice rung throughout the house, clear as a bell. "GINNY!" she repeated once more, "the fireplace is for you!" I turned off the water running from the tub, put my bathrobe on and abandoned the bath I was about to take. I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen and sat down in front of the fireplace.

"Make it quick, dear," my mum said to me, "I'm expecting a floo from the Delacours' any moment now." I nodded my head at her request and my mum went back to her hourly kitchen scrub-down.

Charlotte's head appeared in the cloud of green smoke and I greeted her warmly. "Ginny!" she said to me, "my parents are having a party tonight, it is black tie and they really want to meet your family. Do you think that you guys would be able to come?"

"I would love to!" I gasped. I loved formal affairs; I loved the dancing, waltzes especially, I loved the beautiful dress robes and gowns everyone wore. I loved the golden bubbles resting in champagne flutes and I loved the sound of swishing gowns as people danced. "Hold on...let me just ask my mum," I said.

I turned around and asked my mom, "We can go; I just need to tell your father."

"She said yes, Charlotte," I said to my American friend.

"Good!" she said. "It is at my house at 7:30 tonight, remember, its black tie."

"Thank you," I said to her as her head popped out of sight.

The word traveled fast around the burrow. After I got out of my bath, I sat in my bathrobe giving myself a pedicure and there was a knock upon the door. "Come in," I said.

The door opened slowly and cautiously and Irina stepped onto the weathering wood floors that acted as the base of my room. "Hello Ginny," she said to me in her accented English. She was holding a white box in her arms with a stamp that said "Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions."

"Hi Irina," I said as I looked up at her.

"The other day, I vas in Diagon Alley and I haff found the most beautiful dress robes. They verr originally going to be for my sister, but I think they vould look better on you," she said as she walked towards me and sat next to me on my bed. She opened the box and gently pulled the tissue paper wrapping off of the dress robes. I had a quick intake of breath as Irina held up the most beautiful set of dress robes I had ever seen. They were _the_ perfect color green; soft, but not pale. The dress was made of fine, green velvet and the shoulders went off to the sides. It swept the floor when I walked and it matched perfectly with my skin tone and coloring. The robe was made out of thick green velvet, the same color as the dress. It tied with a pink, tulle ribbon and had intricate embroidering along the flowing sleeves. The dress robes were of the newest, most fashionable cut.

"Irina! I don't know what to say! These are beautiful!" I said to her gloating.

She smiled back at me. "Try them on," she said. I easily slipped the dress on. It fit me like a glove. When I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I couldn't believe it. I looked like a princess.

"Thank you so much, Irina!" I said as I gave her a big hug around the neck.

"You are velcome Ginny. They look the most beautiful on you," she said.

"Ginny? Are you in 'zere?" a voice asked from the doorway.

"Come in, Fleur," I said. Irina automatically grimaced.

With an air of defiance and eau de toilette, the door swung open and Fleur glided in with her head held high. "Ginny, do you have mascara?" she asked me. I nodded my head and shuffled through my vanity drawers to find it.

"Oh. 'Eet 'ees you," Fleur said, turning to Irina. Irina smirked back at her.

I found the mascara, and as I handed it to Fleur, I said, "Fleur! Look at these beautiful dress robes that Irina gave me!"

"You look so beautiful in 'zem Ginny!" Fleur exclaimed. "Thank you for 'ze mascara," she said as she left and closed the door behind her.

Irina got up and said, "I haff to go get ready. I vill see you in a bit." She closed the door once more and left me in my tragically beautiful dress robes. I sat down at my vanity and began to brush out my long hair. I opened a small box on my dresser and took out a handful of jewel encrusted hair pins. I twirled my wand around my head and my hair spun into an up-do.

The Weird Sisters were playing on Wizarding Wireless and I sang along as I applied my make-up. When I finished, I looked in my mirror. Everything looked perfect, except one thing looked out of place. I glanced down at my chest. There was a slightly large gap between my chest and the dress. There was only one thing I could do. I held my wand to my chest and quietly said "_engorgio." _I held my breath as I watched my breasts slowly grow until they just met the dress. _What the hell,_ I thought to myself, and I allowed them to grow a little larger than necessary. I really hoped that nobody would notice.

I quickly removed my wand from my chest as the door opened. Hermione walked in and gasped when she saw me. "You look gorgeous, Ginny!"

"Thank you. So do you," I said to her. She was wearing a set of light pink dress robes.

She sat down on my bed and asked, "what time do we have to go?"

"Umm…" I glanced outside my window and sundown had just begun. The clock on my vanity said 7:27.

"We have three minutes, maybe we should go downstairs," I said to her. She agreed and our dresses swished behind us as we walked down the stairs. In the living room, Harry and Ron were waiting patiently, playing a game of wizard chess. Ron was sitting opposite to us and Harry had his back turned to us.

Ron was the first to notice us. He looked up from me to Hermione. His eyes rested on Hermione and she smiled widely. Harry than turned around and his mouth hung agape as he stared at me.

They walked towards us and Harry took my hand and kissed it. I laughed. "You look breathtaking, Ginny," he said to me, "may I escort you to the ball?"

"But of course," I answered, playing along. He looked so handsome. He was in a pair of dark red dress robes and he had combed his hair, yet it still stuck up in the back like it always had.

"Ginny!" Fleur said. She looked every inch a Veela. Her long blond hair swept her shoulders and she wore an ice blue gown made out of tulle and silk. Diamonds adorned her neck, ears, wrists and fingers.

I turned around to face her. "Yes?" I said.

"I have a gift for you," she said to me as she held out a small, purple velvet box tied with a silver ribbon. From behind me, I heard Irina snort, which was met with a nasty glance from Fleur. I opened it and it contained a necklace. It was not just any necklace. It was a string of pearls made out of large, turquoise pearls. Veela pearls.

Veela pearls were one of the rarest items on earth. They did not come from the ocean; they were tears from a Veela with a broken heart. Whoever wore Veela pearls would be blessed with luck and many of the Veela qualities while wearing them. The only catch was you were able to wear them for 24 hours a year.

"Fleur…I cannot accept this. These are Veela pears!" I handed them back to her.

"Ginny, take 'zem," she enclosed them tightly in my palm, "but don't wear 'zem now," she warned, "save them for a special occasion."

"Thank you so much Fleur," I said. I kissed her on each cheek as was customary in France.

"You are welcome, Ginny," she said to me.

My parents emerged from their bedroom as the clock struck 7:30. "Time to go, everyone," my mother said, "we are apparating there. Harry, Ginny, you two will need partners." My family members began disappearing with a pop. Harry found Ron and side-along apparated with him.

"Ginny, you vill come with me. Ok?" Irina said to me as she held out her arm.

"No!" Fleur shrieked before I could answer, "she 'ees coming with me!"

"No she is not, she is coming with me, right Ginny?" Irina said to me.

"Erm…I don't know," I said. Fleur and Irina each made a mad dash for me and I watched as they fell over, flat on their faces as someone grabbed my arm and I popped away.

"Ahh. Here we are," Hermione said letting go of my arm. We had arrived at a large, spectacular mansion made of stone. It actually looked more like a castle. The sun was slowly setting behind the mountains and the party guests and grounds were flooded in a dim, orange-pink light.

"Thank you for saving me, Hermione," I said to my friend.

"No problem," she laughed. "Let's go this way." She pointed to the large, double doors in the front of the house, thrown wide to welcome the party guests.

We entered a large room with shiny, marble floors and two bejeweled, sweeping staircases going off to each side. Straight ahead, there was a large, arched doorway. Music, laughter and chatter were emitting from it and we made our way through hundreds of gowns while avoiding spiky heels. We dashed for the nearest opening we could find and ducked, just as it was being closed in on by a fat warlock.

I placed my hands on my knees and my head down as I caught my breath. Hermione gasped, "Wow! Ginny! Look!" she nudged my arm and I stood up straight. I gasped at what I saw. This room, which appeared to be the party room, was decorated more beautifully and lavishly than anything I had ever seen before. Hanging rose gardens swept the high ceilings while fairies flew around floating candles. Tapestries depicting scenes of romance adorned the walls and ten foot tall ice sculptures dispensed champagne. A very long table, it must have been 50 feet long, was host to roast pigs, turkeys, steaks, chickens, quail and many other meats on one side. The middle was made up of millions of different entrees, salads, soups, stews and appetizers, while the table ended in a large circle with tons of deserts piled up high. That is where we found Ron and Harry.

They each had a large silver platter in hand, on to which they were piling miles of cakes, pastries, ice cream, candies, pies, tarts and glasses of desert wines. "You're going to make yourselves sick," I said to them.

They laughed. I caught Harry eyeing my newly _"engorged"_ chest with delight. He put his platter down and asked me to dance. He held my hand as we made our way towards the dance floor, where many other couples were dancing. I placed my hand on Harry's shoulder, his hand on my back and our hands grasped firmly, we began to dance. No sooner did a waltz come on and Harry led me strongly.

"How do you know how to waltz?" I asked him, surprised.

He laughed, embarrassed. "A few summers ago I got bored at the Dursley's," he said as he spun me around in a full turn, his hand landing perfectly against my back.

As we were waltzing, an argument was heating up on the other side of the dance floor. Bill and Charlie were each dancing with their fiancées, who began to fight. They settled on having a dance off. All of the party guests crowded around the fiercely dancing women, cheering for their favorite.

My parents and the Davis', who had been engrossed in a truly riveting conversation about Goblin rights, and had not been noticing the event that was going on currently.

The band began to play faster and faster and faster as the dancers began waltzing at a faster pace. Sweat was dripping down Fleur and Irina's foreheads while the exchanged dirty glances while stepping and turning.

A small shriek emitted from Irina as she tumbled gracefully to the ground.

"Fleur…you…you," she growled. Fleur extended her hand towards the Romanian and helped her up. "Thank you," she said surprised.

"I am sorry 'zat I tripped you, Irina," Fleur said.

Irina nodded her head. "Hey…you are a wonderful waltzer, 'zough." Irina looked at her gratefully and they both started laughing and hugging. I turned to Harry and we exchanged a surprise glance and the party went back to normal.

_A/N: I really didn't like this chapter. It took me a really long time to write though, but the plot will be thickening in the next few chapters- I promise. Please review!_


	8. Harry's Birthday Surprise

**WARNING: IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18...no lets be realistic...ok 14, OR DEVOUTLY CHRISTIAN, PLEASE LEAVE NOW! THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SEXUALLY EXPLICIT MATERIALS- and is dedicated to Alex. Thank you for helping me. And to those who leave, don't worry, you are missing no important plot lines. Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Please enjoy- if this is your kind of thing, like Alex. **

**HARRY'S POV**

Time at the burrow spent with Ginny flew quickly as wedding preparations were made and before I knew it; my seventeenth birthday had arrived in a flutter of ivory white wedding RSVP cards and arguments over doves or swans.

On the morning of July 31, I was awoken by a smiling Ginny who gave me a big kiss. I laughed a little and said, "What's all of this for?"

She looked taken aback and a little upset. A large pit lurched in my stomach as I realized that I may have forgotten an anniversary, or worse- her birthday. "Harry, love, have you forgotten?" she said gently, "today is July 31, it's your birthday." I suddenly felt relieved and realized that I would now be of age.

"What time is it?" I asked her.

"Around noon," she said, "we let you sleep late."

I nodded. "Hey- where is everyone?"

"Oh, mum and dad and Bill and Fleur are out doing wedding preparations, everyone else is at work and Hermione and Ron are in town getting you a gift."

"So no one else is home?" I asked.

"Yes," she ran a finger down my cheek and looked at me suggestively, "we have the whole house to ourselves."

"Mmmm…" I murmured as I kissed her down her neck and shoulders and I began pulling her shirt up over her head.

"No Harry," she playfully shook a finger at me, "not before breakfast." She smirked and I groaned as she flipped her hair and began towards the kitchen. I sat down at the table and she stood over the stove, stirring something in a pot.

I got up and went over to her and grabbed her by her waist. She pushed me back into a chair with a smile. "Harry, I'm cooking," she whined. _God Ginny, you're killing me,_ I thought to myself. All I wanted to do was sweep her off her feet and take her upstairs to Molly and Arthur's room andindulge inhours of hot sex with her.

Lost in thought, my eyes popped out of my head as Ginny said, "…its getting so hot cooking in here," and she took off her shirt. I moaned excitedly and she came over to me, sat on my lap and said, "what can I do for you birthday boy?"

I said nothing. "I think I will start with this…" she began kissing me down my chest that was built up and tanned from long hours of quidditch. She fiddled with the waistband of my pants and began kissing and licking my hard on. I moaned as her pretty little face bobbed up and down and I buried my hands in her hair pulling her closer. I was surprised that she didn't pull back when I came, but took everything down her mouth and swallowed it- like a pro. As my hard on waned, she looked up at me and said, "Was I good for my first time?"

"First time?" I spat out, surprised. I think she took this badly and she looked like she was about to cry. "That was your first time! You were amazing!" I said as her whole face lit up, "much better than Cho."

She smiled up at me and curled up in my lap. I kissed her passionately and wiped cum off the corners of her mouth. "I love you, Ginny," I said to her- and I meant it.

"I love you too," she said in response, "so much."

She laid her head against my bare chest and I wrapped my arms around her body.

Remembering something, I was suddenly alert. "Gin…weren't you cooking something?" I asked, alarmed.

She laughed and said, "No, that was a potion. I read about it in the Valentine's day issue of Ron's "Wizard Wands Magazine.""

I looked at her questioningly and she said, embarrassed, "it gets you turned on," and we both started to laugh.


	9. Ménagetrois

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER.**

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SEXUALLY EXPLICIT MATERIAL. PLEASE LEAVE IF THIS DOES NOT SUIT YOU. **

**This is the last chapter for awhile all about sex. I had to get it out of my system. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed. John- I'm glad to know that my last chapter made you jiz on your computer. I hope you cleaned it up. Enjoy!**

* * *

NOBODYS POV 

"Ron-I-can-not-believe-you!" Hermione said breathlessly. Large tears were forming in her eyes as Ron tried to figure out what was so bad about his gift.

"'Mione…I'm…I'm sorry," he stammered. "I…I didn't know you would take it this way…I thought you would be glad I wanted to use protection."

"YOU THOUGHT I WOULD BE GLAD?" Hermione shrieked furiously at her boyfriend as passerby's turned to stare. She threw the small purple vial to the ground and it shattered into a million pieces, spilling the thick, magenta contents. Hermione ran away crying, straight into the outstretched arms of the owners of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

* * *

Deciding there was no point in finding Hermione, Ron buried his hands deep in his pockets and sulked away. He spotted Neville walking into the apothecary. "Oi! Neville!" Neville turned his head in each direction, his eyes finally resting on his Weasley friend. 

"How's it going?" Ron asked as they shook hands.

"Pretty well, pretty well," Neville answered, "what about you?"

"Not so good, my friend," Ron said solemnly.

"Oh- how so?"

"Well, things have been getting pretty serious with Hermione, and I thought it was a good time to you know…" Ron made some hand gestures.

"Catch the snitch?" Neville asked.

"Exactly," Ron answered. "So I thought it was a good time- and well, Hermione and I came to Diagon Alley today to look for a gift for Harry- its his birthday today. Well anyways, I spotted this flashy little store called Mademoiselle Amour," Neville nodded in complete understanding. "I told 'Mione I was going to the bathroom, but I went into the store and bought a contraception potion." Ron recalled the horrible moment in which he walked out of the store with the metallic red bag stuffed with hot pink feathers. He stood by a rubbish bin for twenty minutes disposing of the feathers and trying to find the small purple vile, which he then stuffed into his pocket. When he found Hermione, he told her he had a gift for her and gave it to her. Then the attack started. Ron winced in displeasure.

* * *

Hermione sat on a dragon hide tuffet with a mug of hot tea in her hand. Fred and George where each on one side of her, wiping away her tears while she told them the story. 

"…then he just nonchalantly _tossed_ it to me," she sobbed.

"Ohh….Hermione, poor baby, we would never do something so rude to anyone," Fred said as he began caressing her cheek. She held his broad hand against her face and his fingertips lightly brushed against her lips. Right now Hermione was so confused. She had no idea what was going on with her and Ron now, and she tried now to think about it as she lightly sucked on Fred's fingertips and he kissed her gently on the lips. She responded with enthusiasm and George joined in on the fun. The twins took turns removing Hermione's outfit and she theirs.

George twirled his wand effortlessly and elaborately and a lavish bed was conjured out of nowhere. The twins picked up Hermione and gently laid her on the bed, then pounced her and began lavishing her with their tongues and kisses as she moaned.

"Wait Fred!" George said as he picked his head up from in between her legs. "Hermione, do you want to go all the way?"

"More than anything," Hermione said in ecstasy. Since her first year in Hogwarts, she had fantasized about the two handsome Weasley twins taking her virginity at the same time. At this moment, she cared nothing about their younger brother.

The twins nodded in happiness and took turns sliding in and out of her from front and back.

"Oh George!" Hermione yelled, "I'm coming George!"

"I'm Fred," the twin inside of her said.

"That's ok," George said, "because I'm coming to you from behind, Hermione!"

"Oh Fred! Oh George! Oh please!" Hermione cried lustfully as she came more intensely than ever.

After what seemed like an eternity of fucking, the twins held Hermione between them while they all rested from their insane orgasms. "George- that was great!" Fred said breathlessly.

"You're telling me, Fred," George said equally as breathlessly.

Fred lay back against the pillow, his arms behind his head, and sighed, "Oohhh…I _love _crazy European sex."

"Me too," George added from in between the sheets.

"Me too," Hermione added from in between the twins.

Whilst laying in their post passion, an unexpected occurrence occurred. The door flung wide open to reveal an upset, disheveled and above all else, shocked, Ronald Weasley. At the sight before his eyes, Ron giggled and then retched, as many may have done if they found the love of their life enveloped in the arms of their older twin brothers who happened to own a joke shop. Hermione smiled at Ron and asked him if he was feeling ok.

Ron ran from the store as fast as his legs would carry him with hot tears filling his eyes. Hermione went back to snuggling the twins.

On Ron's way, he bumped into Harry and Ginny. Harry had just barely passed his apparition test. Ginny was very proud. Ron noticed a little white crust by her cheek, but decided not to say anything. Noticing Ron so upset, Harry and Ginny inquired as to what was wrong. He told them the whole story.

"...oh...Harry? Will you please perform a memory charm on me?" he asked, "I just want to forget. I just want to forget everything."

Harry performed a memory charm on Ron while Ginny stayed outside with him and kept him company.

Wand out and ready to go, Harry ran towards the twins joke shop. He kicked open the door to the back room like a ninja. "Get dressed, woman! You slut!" he shouted at Hermione, "and you twodouchebags too!" he shouted at an alarmed Fred and George. Harry decided he could be as mean as he wanted to be because in a matter of seconds, three red beams of light shot out of his wand at Hermione and the twins. Memories modified,Harry then greeted them joyously and they made their way towards Ron and Ginny waiting patiently outside.

_A/N: This is one of my favorite chapters. I think it is hilarious. I swear- I have meaningful chapters coming up next. Please keep reading and reviewing!_


	10. Sweet Seventeen

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I hope you enjoy this chapter. It was really fun to write.**

HARRY'S POV

"…ARE YOU READY! ARE YOU READY!" Myron Wagtail shrieked through the microphone. All of the party guests were cheering and screaming at the top of their lungs. "_Move your body like a hairy troll, allergic to rock and roll…spin around like a crazy elf! Dancing by itself_!" The crowd screamed and went crazy, doing the Hippogriff. I watched with humor as Hermione spun drunkenly like a crazy elf and put her hands in the air like an ogre who just don't care. Hermione was a hilarious drunk.

I laughed at her as Ron came towards her and put his hands on her shoulders, trying to steady her. She was screaming, "This is Ron! I love Ron! Don't you love Ron!" Ron's ears were turning red. She pointed to random guests and said, "You love Ron! And you love Ron! You too, you love Ron! We all love Ron! Let's dance!" She put her hands on her head and swayed her hips fiercely. She began to slow down, but she was still swaying from side to side. Hermione looked at Ron and retched all over him and then passed out. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her off towards the house. _He really loves her,_ I thought to myself.

_"CAN YOU DANCE THE HIPPOGRIFF-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma- FLYING OFF FROM THE CLIFF- ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma- SWOOPING DOWN TO THE GROUND-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma- WHEEL AROUND AND AROUND AND AROUND-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma!" _I reminded myself to thank Fred and George for getting the Weird Sisters to perform. I also wondered if Mr. and Mrs. Weasley knew what was going on. They were currently in France, enjoying an eight course dinner with the Delacour's. Bill and Fleur were supposed to be in France with their parents, but Fleur feigned illness and Bill escorted her here. Fleur was now dancing with a group of beautiful Beauxbatons girls.

Ginny came over to me from behind and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. "Having fun, Harry?" she said into my ear. I spun her around and gave her a kiss.

"_Your hands are shaking baby, you ain't been sleeping lately, there's something out there and it doesn't seem very friendly- does it!" _

"Dance with me, Harry," she said to me as she pulled her lips away from mine. A new song was playing and I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to me. So close, I felt her heart beat against my chest.

"_I've got to get a grips-uh- I don't want to feel like this- uh- your voice keeps haunting me. I cannot eat or sleep." _

I realized that this was the first time I ever really "danced" with her. There was that time at Charlotte's party, but I would have never dared danced there with Ginny how was I was now.

"_I'm going crazy in this hazy fantasy- you put a spell on me-oh- but I ain't going down alone." _

Her long red hair broke free from its elastic, flowing down her back. My hands slid around her back and her face was pressed against mine. Her body was pressed tightly against mine and I wasn't letting go anytime soon.

"_So-take-your-hands-up-off-of-me-tonight-I'm-breaking-free-this the night…this is the night." _

She moved her head towards me and kissed me. I could taste a mixture of butterbeer and firewhisky on her lips, and I thanked Merlin that she wasn't as drunk as Hermione.

I reminded myself to thoroughly thank Fred and George and ask them how they got the Weird Sisters to perform at my seventeenth birthday party. Everyone I knew was here- and even people I didn't. Piles of gifts lingered in corners and beneath tables. Yet, there was still one lingering question in my mind- did Mr. and Mrs. Weasley know about this?

Dr. Fillibuster's Wet-Start, No heat fireworks were shooting in the sky at dozens at a time. Tables were overflowing with butterbeer, firewhisky and millions of sweets. My friends danced drunkenly- making complete fools of themselves. When the song finished, Fred and George jumped onto the stage and took over the microphone. "Welcome everyone," they said in unison, "welcome to Harry's seventeenth birthday party!" They pointed to me and everyone cheered. "Now let's hand the mic back over to our good friend Myron."

The crowd began cheering in a different tune- saying, "Weasley twins! Weasley twins! Weasley twins!"

"…all right, you want us to sing something for you?" George said and the crowd began cheering harder. "All right then, we do have a little something we can play!" hesaidmodestly andthen whispered something to Fred, who nodded and borrowed Kirley McCormack Duke's guitar. "This is a little something we wrote during our seventh year at Hogwarts!" The crowd went crazy. George took a long swig of Ogden's Best Firewhiskey, shook himself out and Fred began on the guitar.

"This one's called Stick it to Dolores!" the crowd cheered. George began slowly, "_We don't care for your- defense against the dark arts class! You undermine our intelligence- we won't take it anymore!"_ Fred joined in and began singing, "_ohmigod you look like a frog! Ohmigod you look like a frog! Ohmigod you look like a frog! Ohmigod you look like a frog! Umbridge your going down- Umbridge we're taking you down."_ The banged their heads as Fred's fingers moved skillfully across the purple metallic guitar, shrieking loud and fast.

_"Your educational decrees are not welcome in our house. You'll never take the place- of Albus Dumbledore!" _

The rest of the band picked up the beat and joined in. The twins shrieked out the hilarious chorus once more and the party guests screamed it out with them. Once the song finished, the twins bowed and held their hands up, signaling for more applause. The exited the stage, bombarded by friends.

As the Weird Sisters reluctantly welcomed a particularly bad rap from Lee Jordan, who had insisted on a turn, I experienced an enticing moment with Ron.

"Harry- look what I have!" he came towards me, happy as can be, wearing a clean shirt and holding a full bottle of firewhiskey. "You want to try it mate?" he asked me.

"Yeah," I answered as I popped off the cap. I took a long swig as I felt the thick liquid burning down my throat. I coughed, and taken by surprise, I breathed out fire. My whole body tingled with warmth. My limbs felt loose and heavy and then they felt tight. It was an incredible feeling. I looked at Ron and grinned.

"Your turn," I said to him. His hand was trembling as he took the bottle from my hand and took small sips.

"Screw this," he said as he poured the remaining contents into his mouth. Once he swallowed, he shook and shrieked with delight as fire burned from his mouth. We both started hysterically laughing. We were laughing so hard, that Ron pulled me down with him in a sorry attempt to stay balanced.

Everything was blurry. I felt like everyone and everything were spinning past me at 200 miles per hour and the hard ground beneath me felt like a soft, fluffy cloud. The music playing in the background sounded like a screaming banshee. I could only see Ron and the bottle of Firewhisky clearly. My hand felt heavy as I reached for the bottle filled with the sacred liquid, as if I would not survive if I did not drink it. I lifted the cold brim of the glass bottle up to my numb lips. A drop of the Firewhisky slid down my throat and I tilted the bottle more, expecting more to come out. I groaned as none did and I lifted the bottle over my head, preparing to throw it as I would throw a quaffle. I felt something hard and heavy knock against my head and then everything blacked out.

_A/N: I hope you liked it as much as I did! The first song that I put in was called "Do the Hippogriff". It was from the HPGOF soundtrack and the second song was from the soundtrack also- it is called "This is the Night". The third song was called "Stick it to Dolores" and it is by a group called Harry and the Potters. They're awesome. You can find them on Please review!_


	11. The Dream

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed. This is where the story starts to get interesting. **

_It was half past nine. In the Potter residence; a large, stone manor house in the countryside of West Sussex, a beautiful red haired witch was in the kitchen. Her hair was tied back and she was wearing an apron over a pale floral sundress. She put on her oven mitts as she reached into the oven and pulled out a cake. She removed her wand from the pocket of her apron and set it on the cake, which instantly cooled. She covered the cake in vanilla icing and wrote "Happy Birthday Harry" on it with blue icing. Taking the remaining vanilla icing, she rolled it up in wax paper and made ruffles along the edge of the cake. She counted seventeen candles and placed each one on the cake. A little girl of five appeared in the kitchen doorway. She had red hair like her mother and striking green eyes. "Mummy, can I go wake Harry now?" _

_"No dear, let him sleep," the witch said to her young daughter, who was now at her side. _

_"But mummy, it's his birthday!" she whined. _

_"Emma, I said no," the witch said. _

_"Mummy! Please! Me and Emma really want to wake him up!" This time it was not the little redhead who said it. This one had long, black hair and was a older by two years._

_"Ceil, you heard what I said to Emma. Let your brother sleep," the witch said as she placed little marzipan stars on the cake. _

_The two girls left the kitchen wearing a long face. They made their way towards the study to see their father. On their way, they met up with their sister, Sophie, who was nine. Within the family, Ceil, Emma and Sophie were called the "golden trio" because they were rarely seen without each other. _

_It took the force of the three small girls to open the heavy double doors of the study. Their father was sitting at his desk in a leather chair, reading a magazine that said "Quidditch Weekly" on the cover. He was holding a golden snitch in his hand as his daughters came into the room. He wished them good morning and they each gave him a light kiss on the cheek. _

_"Daddy, can we go wake Harry now?" Ceil said to him. _

_"What did mummy say?" he asked them, still intently reading his magazine. He was a tall, handsome man with messy black hair that went down to his eyebrows. Smile lines were etched around his eyes, which were covered by glasses. _

_"We didn't ask her," Ceil responded convincingly._

_He looked at his watch. "All right," he said, "go wake him." The girls smiled and raced up the long, sweeping marble stair. _

_"Get up sleepyhead!" the littlest one said to her brother. She stuck her small finger against his eyelid, lifting it up slightly to reveal the edge of an emerald green eye._

"_Hey!" he said as he pushed her finger away. He rubbed his eyes and reached for his glasses on his night table. He too had messy black hair like his father. _

_"What time is it?" he asked them tiredly as he lifted his head, heavy from sleep, off of his feather pillow._

_"Almost ten," Sophie said to him. Sophie had curly red hair which could never remain tamed. _

_"Happy birthday!" Emma said as she jumped on him._

_"Ouch," he groaned. _

_"Harry! We made you a present for your birthday!" Ceil said to him.Sophie handed him a small, badly wrapped package tied with a pink hair ribbon. Pulling off the ribbon, he handed it back to Ceil who tied it in Emma's messy hair. He removed the wrapping paper and unfolded a piece of paper. The paper said "Happy Birthday" in messy letters made by crayons and had a picture of their family standing in front of their house. On the bottom it said, "Love, Sophie, Ceil and Emma." _

_"Thank you!" Harry said to them and began tickling their stomachs and they laughed hard. _

_"Harry! You're awake!" a girl with black hair said as she entered his room from the hallway. A two year old boy with red hair had his arms wrapped around her neck. Nicholas was the youngest of the siblings. Violet was in her second year of Hogwarts but she was small for her age. She came running towards Harry and gave him a big hug. _

_"Good morning, Violet," he said as he hugged her back._

_"Birthday, 'rry," Nicholas said confidently. _

_"I have a present for you," Violet said. Violet was still wearing pajamas and she reached into the pocket of her bathrobe and pulled out three long sugar quills which she handed him. Violet bade her sisters good morning as four boys appeared in Harry's room. They all had red hair, like their mother. _

_The tallest one, Adam, was fourteen. The other two were twins, Sam and Rhett. At eleven years old, they looked identical but had completely different personalities. The youngest of the three was Kevin, who was eight. They walked towards their older brother and said happy birthday as they handed him a large bag of sweets. _

_"Where is Sarah?" Emma asked, upset. "All of us are here except for Sarah. Where is she?" _

_"Ugh, I'll go get her," Violet groaned. Five minutes later, they were joined by Violet and a beautiful girl of fifteen. _

_"Good morning Sarah!" Emma said and all of the little ones gave her a hug. _

_"Happy birthday, brother," she said to Harry as she tossed him a square package. He tore it open and pulled out two books on quidditch. _

_"I'm hungry, let's go down for breakfast," Harry said to his siblings and they all went down the great staircase and into the kitchen. _

_The red haired witch looked up as she saw all of her children in the kitchen. "Happy birthday, Harry," she said to Harry as she stood on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek. "I can't believe your seventeen," she said and sighed, "I remember the day you were born!" _

_"Is that the birthday boy?" father asked as he walked into room. "Happy birthday, son," he said as he handed him a gift. It was a very elaborate watch which was appropriate for the affluent life they led. He thanked his parents and they all sat down at the long kitchen table. Mother brought out the cake, lighting the candles with her wand. The family sang a chorus of "happy birthday" as Harry blew out the candles. Father cut everyone a large slice and they were all happy, because they only got to eat cake for breakfast twelve times a year. _

_After everyone finished, mother stood up and said, "Everyone go get dressed. The Weasley's should be here any minute." _

_"Ron is coming!" the twins shrieked in delight. _

_"Yes," father said, "I only hope that he stays away from the quidditch pitch this time..." _

_"Yes," mother said, "and the marsh as well." _

_A little voice emitted from one of the children. "Ron knows where the next Horcrux is," she said. _

* * *

"Where?" Harry was saying frantically in his sleep, "Where? Where? Where is it? Where is it! I need to know!" He was tossing and turning. 

"Shh…Harry, calm down," I said to him as I dabbed his forehead with the cool cloth.

His eyes opened at once. "Ron!" he screamed. "Ron! Ron! Ron!"

"Harry, dear, calm down," I said to him. I was worried about him; I could tell it was no pain from his scar.

He looked up at me, his eyes wide. "Ginny, where is Ron? I need him," he said.

_A/N: Can you believe that Ron knows where the next horcrux is? Or was it just the dream? And who was that family? Was that Lily and James as the parents, as if they had never died? Or was that Harry's family from the future, with Ginny as his wife and his son turning seventeen? He-he-he only I know for sure. And was anyone wondering why the firewhiskey had such a strange effect in the last chapter? You will find out in the next chapter. Please review! _


	12. Rain

**HOLY SHIT! HARRY AND THE POTTERS ARE COMING TO MY TOWN NEXT MONTH! Enjoy the chapter and please review!**

HERMIONE'S POV

He looked so peaceful, so perfect. His bright red hair was too long and needed to be cut. Soft eyelids and golden eyelashes covered his blue eyes as he slept soundly and motionless. I watched the pattern of his breathing; his chest rising, and then receding, repeatedly, softly.

I could tell he was dreaming. His eyes fluttered and he smiled. I wondered what he was dreaming about that could have made him so happy. My hand swept against his forehead and I pushed his hair back from his face. I got up off the bed and my feet welcomed the warm, hardwood floor. The window was open and I climbed out of it, onto the roof.

The night air smelled like summer storm. My feet dangled from the edge and I laid back and looked up into the night sky. The white moon was a waning gibbous. I had once tried to explain the phases of the moon to him, but he shrugged and grunted. I retorted rudely, telling him he should have listened in Astronomy. He laughed and then took me into his arms and held me for what seemed like forever. I smiled foolishly as I remembered fondly. It began drizzling and the small raindrops fell gently onto my cheek. Faint thunder cracked far off in the distance and my eyelids began to feel heavy and they closed. I slipped my hands beneath the side of my face and I felt myself falling asleep against the warm, torn shingles of the Burrow's roof.

* * *

GINNY'S POV

"Shh…Harry, calm down," I said quietly.

"Ginny," he tossed and turned, "Ginny."

I reached to the bedside table and picked up the half empty vile of Sleeping Draught. Tilting his head back, I poured two drops of the purple liquid into his mouth. Rain began to pelt outside the dirty glass window. A warm breeze swept through the bottom of the window.

He began to quiet down, and just as he fell asleep, he whispered, "Where is Ron?" I softly kissed his forehead.

The sky was deep purple and tainted with bright lighting bolts and loud cracks of thunder. An almostfull, bright moon was partially hidden by smoky gray clouds. I stood up zombie-like and walked to the bathroom, leaving Harry sleeping soundly in my bed, alone.

As I finished in the bathroom, I opened the door into the gray darkness. I became suddenly alert as I peered down the stairs, into light and many worried, whispering voices. I knew something was wrong, something besides Harry and Ron. I silently crept down the narrow staircase as my eyes adjusted to the dim lamplight.

"What's wrong Arthur?" I heard my mother say to my father. She was in a housecat and batty slippers. Her hair was in a messy bun and she was rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Molly, there's been another attack," my father said tiredly with an evident worry in his voice.

My mother gasped. "How many? Who?" she demanded.

"We're not sure just how many yet," a curt female voice, "the first attack was on the Patils, but there have been more…muggles too." I felt vomit rising in my throat.

"Oh Merlin," my mother said. Her eyes were beginning to fill with tears and she collapsed into a chair.

The tea kettle began to whistle loudly. "Cup of tea, Molly?" a young female voice asked.

"Yes, please, Nymphadora," my mother said, "thank you, dear."

I then heard the creaky kitchen door swing wide open and I heard an upset, exasperated voice say something I could not understand.

"…the Lovegoods too!" my mother remarked. "Oh my!" I couldn't believe it. Luna was a little weird, but still one of my friends. I braced myself and an empty pit formed in my stomach. I squatted and brought my head down and I was able to get a better view of the kitchen. The small, simple kitchen was full of most of the order members and all of my older brothers, except for Ron. Remus Lupin stood soaking wet by the kitchen door, catching his breath. He had obviously brought the recent news.

I heard an owl swoop in through the kitchen window, and I adjusted myself to see more, but as I did, the staircase creaked loudly.

"Ginny," I heard Moody say gruffly. I knew I was found out. My legs trembled as the walked the rest of the stairs.

My father turned to me. His eyes were puffy and tired and he had obviously been up for some hours now. "Ginny," my father said, "go wake the others," he said. I opened my mouth to question him, but before I could speak he said to me, "no time for questions. Get dressed. Go wake Harry, Hermione and Ron. Now!" I obeyed my father, I knew he was serious. I ran upstairs, trying not to throw up.

I burst into my room and frantically began shaking Harry to wake him up. I splashed cold water onto him with my wand and he began to wake. "Blimey, Ginny," he said tiredly. "What time is it?"

I looked over at the clock on my vanity and said, "Umm…its 4:30."

"Bloody," he said, "what's wrong with me? I feel like I was hit by a truck. What's going on?"

"I don't know, get dressed and go downstairs. I swear, Harry, I don't know what's going on," I said, "but please listen to me." He sat up in bed and seeing the panic and fear in my eyes, he stood up and began to get dressed. I quickly undressed and threw on a pair of dirty jeans that were crumpled up in front of me on the floor, matched with a large navy cable knit sweater that belonged to Harry. I grabbed my wand and closed the door behind me.

I ran up another flight of stairs and pointed my wand at Ron's door which flew open with a great force. Ron slept soundly and I pointed my wand at him and he awoke abruptly. "I have no time to explain," I said. "Get dressed and go downstairs."

"What's going on, Gin?" Ron asked dimly.

"I don't know, I really don't. Honest …hurry up," I said. Where was Hermione? Unaware of myself, I began screaming her name. The window was open, I looked outside. She was there, sleeping and soaking wet. I stuck my upper body out the window. My hair was penetrated by heavy rain and I shook Hermione and she woke. I didn't have time to explain, Ron would. I ran downstairs.

Professor McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebott sat at the kitchen table making portkeys. Thunder was booming more loudly than ever and lightning lit the purple sky grey. Fast winds blew against the windows and made the walls tremble. Hagrid stood by the doorway, with a bundle in his arms- a human bundle. I couldn't tell who it was.

"…we found 'er a few minutes ago," Hagrid said, "rest of 'er family is dead. She was hidin' in the woods." My mother was fussing around the stove, preparing a cup of tea.

"Who is it?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"She's sleeping now. It's one of the Patil girls," Hagrid said, "Parvati, I think." I gasped. I couldn't move. Parvati's long braid hung limply across Hagrid'sbroad arm and her head was tilted to the side. Her clothes were dirtied and wet and heroliveskin tone was palerand sallow. She looked awful.

"Oh dear!" Professor McGonagall said. "I thought they were in India!"

"Its all over the world, Minerva," Lupin said, looking up from a sheet of parchment that was possibly a map.

"Hurry up, Minerva, Kingsley," my mother cried frantically.

I was still standing at the foot of the stairs and I jumped when I heard Harry's behind me. "What happened?"

"Parvati," I managed to say. Tears were filling my eyes and I knew that this was really serious. I knew it was Death Eaters. Ron and Hermione came running down the stairs soon after, hand in hand.

"Done!" Kingsley cried.

"Children, come," my father said. We ran towards him and placed a finger on the portkey.

"Wait!" we heard a cry from the doorway. Charlotte was there, looking confused and panicked, with an older boy. "Our parents told us to run here, we don't know why," she said breathlessly.

"Get your fingers on a portkey!" my mother shrieked. Professor McGonagoll opened her mouth to speak, but wasyielded by a glance from mum."Quick!" Before we knew it we were spinning through the air at maximum speed.

_A/N: Please review!_


	13. The Other Mrs Weasley

**I'm so sorry it took me so long to update. Now that midterms are over, I will update more regularly. Please review. **

Harry's POV

Fog wrapped around us like a thick, heavy blanket. The toes of my trainers were soaked through with morning dew. The air was particularly cold for an early August morning and I wrapped my shivering arms around each other, but it was no use. Silence was soon broken by whispers of questions and quieting responses. I was too tired to be curious or inquiring, I was just confused and I wanted to get back into my nice, warm bed.

"It's safe," I heard Mr. Weasley say in a throaty, half-whisper, "follow me and stay close." The fog was so thick I could not see in front of me. I followed Ron's back, clutching Ginny's hand tightly. Soggy twigs bent beneath my feet and it seemed to take hours until I was standing upon cool, cobblestones in a damp, dank room. My eyes adjusted to the clarity lit by waning candles and a warm, blazing fire in the large hearth, which I was drawn too. I noticed we were in an anciently decorated room. The walls were adorned with moth eaten tapestries and cobwebs laced upon tarnishing candelabras. Musty Oriental rugs rested beneath our feet and the high, cathedral ceiling was supported by deteriorating wooden beams.

"Where are we?" I whispered to no one in particular.

"No worries, Harry, we will explain it all in the morning, just follow me," Tonks said behind me. I followed the soft light of her lantern and I walked in a daze of fatigue and confusion. I began to turn towards the great staircase in the center of the room, but Tonks clicked her tongue and turned the other way. We walked up a narrow staircase and down a barely lit corridor. It seemed like forever until she opened the door to a room with a great four poster bed, which I walked to in need and passed out into a deep sleep.

I was awoken to the sounds of chirping birds and a rushing stream. I buried my face into the pillow, but was surprised when I realized it was white, not orange, and that I was not in Ron's room. I blinked and reached for my glasses. A warm breeze swept through the open window, displaying a picturesque view of ageless green mountains and a clear, blue sky which rested over a calm lake. I turned my head from the window and saw that I was in large, musty room with stone walls and stone floors. There was a hearth with a dying fire across from two four poster beds. I was in one; Ron was in the other, snoring loudly. We were definitely not in the burrow anymore. I tossed a pillow at him and he moaned. "Where are we Harry?" he said tiredly, rubbing his eyes.

"I don't know, I was hoping you could tell me," I said to him.

"Oh- yes, I know where we are!" he said with a smile, "we're at my grandparent's castle! I bet there's tea and crumpets waiting for us downstairs! Let's go!" Ron threw the covers off his bed and jumped up, "C'mon Harry!

"My Grandad's a bit deaf in one ear so…" Ron was cut off by a scream. We looked at each other and knew it was Hermione. I followed Ron through the grand corridors of his grandparent's castle, avoiding suits of armor and the occasional boggart.

We found Hermione. She was in a large panel bed, her face soaked with tears. Standing beside her was a surprised looking house elf, holding a tea tray, with one hand extended towards her, offering her tea.

"Look at him," she wailed to us, pointing to the terrified elf. Ron groaned.

"Master Ron…" the house elf started and swept Ron a low bow, "I do not know what I have done to make her like this. Please beg my pardon," the elf threw himself at Ron's knees and began to grovel.

"Don't worry about it

"He's so emaciated…" her next words were not understandable in between her heavy sobbing. Ron went over to her and began explaining that this was the house elf's job.

I wandered down the corridor, and opened doors, looking for Ginny. Somewhere in the depth of my heart I felt it was a chore. I opened one door, which led to a staircase. I walked up and found Ginny sleeping soundly in her bed. I pounced on her and a smile began to form on her lips. She opened her soft brown eyes and looked at me brightly. She had always been a morning person, I noted to myself. I kissed her softly on the forehead and she said "good morning, Harry."

A worried look then crossed her face and she brushed her fingers along my scar. "How do you feel?" she asked me.

"Fine," I responded defensively. I saw the hurt look on her face and quickly apologized.

"You know there was a big attack last night" she said quietly. I looked up at her and nodded my head no. It was all coming back to me now; the Order members in the kitchen, Parvati's limp body, the Portkeys.

"I don't know much of went on," she continued in a whisper, "I got a bit out of Tonks though, and then she had to leave."

"So that's why we're here? At your Grandparents house?" I asked her. Ginny didn't have time to respond. We heard footsteps up the stairs and the room filled with the smell of sandalwood and musky rose water. First I noticed the hair. It went down to her knees and was blinding white and stick straight. A jeweled clip pulled half of it up. She was dressed in long, deep purple velvet robes and there was a pointed hat to match.

"Ahh…Ginny, my dear," the elderly witch said in a smooth, silky tone, "It has been too long, how are you my dear?" She kissed Ginny once on each cheek and grinned, showing a row of perfect teeth.

"I am well, Grandmother. I agree, it has been far too long," Ginny smiled up at her Grandmother in admiration.

"These recent attacks have been so awful. I am so relieved that none of them have been here in Wales. It was so smart of your parents to leave you and your siblings and friends here," she said with a fake, reassuring smile. Then, in a more quiet, solemn tone, she added, "I just wish your parents would not go out and fight." Ginny merely smiled, not agreeing, not disagreeing.

"And you?" the witch turned to me, "you must be Ginny's boyfriend, Dean, it is nice to meet you!"

"Erm…no, actually I'm not Dean," I started, but was cut off by Ginny.

"Grandmother, actually this is a friend of Ron and me. This is Harry Potter," Ginny said.

"Harry Potter-eh? So are the rumors true?" She looked at me inquiringly. I caught a bit of a Welsh accent in her smooth, firm voice. As I had done hundreds of times before, I pushed back the hair on my forehead, revealing my famous scar.

"Welcome to my home," she said warmly. "I am Mrs. Weasley," she said as she extended her hand towards me. I took her hand, but she did not shake it. I was confused. I looked at Ginny at she mouthed to me to kiss this other Mrs. Weasley's hand. I did and she smiled.

"Yes, Grandmother," Ginny responded for the both of us.

"Get dressed, the pair of you and come downstairs for breakfast," Mrs. Weasley said. She walked away muttering something about dozens of children.

Once the door was closed firmly, Ginny said to me, "As you can tell Harry, my Grandmother is quite old fashioned. Wear robes, she hates Muggle clothes." I nodded my tired head towards her and descended down the cool, stone steps.

I found a pair of plain, red robes in my trunk, which I noticed I had not taken with me last night, and I put them on. I had not worn them in awhile and they were slightly short at the ankles and tugging at my wrists, which I fixed with my wand. Running a comb through my hair made no difference to control its usual state of messiness.

I suddenly became aware of the horrible pit in my stomach forming. I knew what this was. It had been going on for awhile. It could not be helped, and I had been trying to avoid it, to push it to the back of my mind. Ginny and I were growing apart, and nothing could be done.

* * *

Ginny's POV

The kiss he gave me on my forehead was cool and forced. I didn't mind, and I don't think he did either. For awhile, we had been different, Harry and I. It hurt, but it was the truth. I pulled my favorite pair of robes out of the cupboard. They were lavender silk. In my ears hung smooth amethysts which matched my robes. I took the silver backed hairbrush and pulled it through my long hair. _Its getting too long_, I thought to myself as I shook it out.

Glancing at my reflection in the mirror, I was not the least bit satisfied. Blemishes were forming on my once porcelain skin, where it was not damaged by peeling sun burn. My hair was too long, too thick. Pale gold eyelashes swept my eyelids, and it didn't look nice over my bright brown eyes. _No wonder Harry doesn't love me anymore_, a voice in the back of my head said loudly. I felt tears forming in the corners of my eyes and I tried my best to hold them back, and to once again be the strong, brave Ginny Weasley as I had been when I had loved, and was loved back.

As I was walking through the corridor, I ran into Harry. Neither of us touched one another, or said anything. We exchanged one long, measuring glance and knew what we each had been thinking. Harry held his hand out towards me and said with a quivering smile, "friends?"

"Friends," I affirmed as I shook his hand ever so politely and we walked downstairs towards the dining room. A flood of relief swept over me, but it was followed by a hollow heart and awkwardness. I was relieved that I did not have to break it off myself, but I somehow felt gypped. Twice I have been dumped by Harry Potter. I supposed this time wasn't so bad, because nobody had known about our relationship- at least to my knowledge. This time I was not as hurt and I was not as naïve. We walked side by side in an awful silence down the corridor.

"Morning Ginny…Harry," Fred and George said brightly.

"Wow," I said to myself as I walked in the dining room. The long trestle table was filled with breakfast foods and teacups were in front of each of the high back mahogany chairs. Everyone was there; Ron, Hermione, Charlotte and the older boy she was with last night, Parvati, Neville, Luna, Fred, George, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot, and a few others. And then- sitting with a contented smirk on his pale, sallow face was Draco Malfoy. Anger was boiling inside me and my throat felt as if it was closing in. I took a deep breath and tried so hard to remain calm. I saw Harry fists clench beside me as he slowly reached for his wand and pointed it at Draco, who was in deep conversation with a smiling Charlotte.

"Harry, stop," I warned him quietly as I put my hand on his arm.

He ignored me. "Draco!" Harry exploded. "What are you doing here?"

Ron chuckled. "It's all right Harry, the Order captured him," Ron said. Harry looked embarrassed at his outburst, but didn't apologize.

"Yeah, I was caught by your stupid Order of the Nargle Club," Draco sneered.

Luna looked at him sharply, obviously offended. "Was that some sort of joke directed towards me?" Draco looked confused and nodded his head no, "Because I don't care what anyone says- Nargles are real. I have some in a case in my house," she said dreamily. Draco raised his eyebrows and smirked, but Luna didn't notice.

"I believe they exist," I heard Neville whisper to Luna very quietly. She nodded her head towards him in thanks and beneath the table, I noticed her place her hand over his and look deeply into his eyes. And I smiled to myself- knowing they had found each other.

I took my seat at the table, away from Harry. Parvati, who was seated on my right, began sobbing uncontrollably. I just stared at her with pity. Tears streamed down from her puffy red eyes down her tanned cheeks to her chapped lips. I couldn't get the words out of my throat to ask her if she was all right, which I think she was thankful for. Hermione then took her away from the room.

A silence fell upon the table and I looked towards everyone with wide eyes. "Her whole family died," Charlotte finally spoke in solemn words.

I did not respond. Out of habit, I tipped my chair a bit so only two feet were on the floor. "Poor girl," Luna said dreamily, "they can't even find the body of her sister, Padma. I hope she got away safely."

"Doubt it," Draco said, receiving sharp looks from everyone at the table, then stuffed a burnt crumpet in his mouth and shrugged. "I can't help it," he said through bites, "I am on the other side." Charlotte looked down at her feet when Draco said this.

"Oh," I said as I leaned a little further back in my chair, this time losing balance completely. I shrieked as I began to fall down to the floor in my chair, but then a strong hand caught me in the middle of my back. I looked up into deep, indigo eyes. Above me was the most striking face I had ever seen. Wavy brown hair framed a strong, handsome face. I saw a grin begin to form on his perfect, raspberry lips and I beamed back at him. His hand was still on my back and we both began to laugh. He pulled me up onto my feet and I thanked him, still laughing.

"No problem," he responded in an American accent. "I'm Ian," he extended his hand towards me. I noticed he was taller than me and had a wonderful, muscular body.

"Ginny," I introduced myself and shook his hand.

"Pleasure," he said, dropping my hand slowly.

"That was quite a trip," I said.

"See you next fall," he responded with a smile. I howled with laughter and at that moment I felt as if these attacks had never happened, nobody was dead, but everything was perfect. It felt like we were the only two people in the room.

"I tend to tell bad jokes as well," I admitted to him.

"Did you get hurt at all?" he asked me, suddenly serious.

"There's a major bump on the back of my head, but otherwise no," I told him.

I felt his hand run through my hair and shivers ran down my spine at his touch. "This one's huge, nearly elephant sized, I think we will have to amputate," he said in the most serious tone, but when I looked over at him, he was grinning.

"Ginny- stop flirting with my brother, he's two years older than you," Charlotte said jokingly from across the room, suddenly breaking the unawareness of everyone else. I felt my cheeks growing hot and red and Harry looked like he had been kicked in the head, and then turned his gaze towards the window.

Thankfully, awkwardness was saved by four figures walking through the doorway, Hermione being one of them. "Hello everyone, I believe you are all wondering why you are here and what has happened," Professor McGonagall announced in a brisk tone assuming her place at the head of the table. She paused and looked towards Draco. "Out Mr. Malfoy, this is none of your business," she nodded to Kingsley Shacklebott and Lupin who escorted Draco out of the room.

"Well then," she said as she twirled her wand and parchment and quills appeared before everyone.

"Erm…Professor McGonagall," Neville said nervously, with a half-raised hand.

"Please, call me Minerva, we are not in school," she responded kindly. "Now what was it you wanted Neville?"

"Well, then, umm…Minerva," he stammered nervously, "oh- never mind."

"All right," she said, repossessing her cool, brisk manner. "As you all know, last night there were a very large attack by the Death Eaters…" I drowned her out, instead I was suspiciously watching Harry.

* * *

Harry's POV

I could feel it my bones. My mind was screaming to me and my heart was beating fast with anxiety and awareness. Everything around me suddenly seemed clearer, brighter and my hearing was suddenly sharp and acute. Tonight was the night. The time was ripe and it had to be done. I quickly scribbled a note to Ron and passed it to him under the table.

He looked at me and grinned. We were leaving tonight.

* * *

_A:N: Don't worry about the breakup. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it took me a long time to write. Please review!_


	14. The Fourth Person

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I'm sorry. I have serious writers block. Please review, and then maybe you can motivate me.

* * *

Ron's POV**

Each minute seemed like an hour. Each hour seemed like a day. I was anxious, excited and nervous. I wondered where we would go first, and when we would leave and what we would do. I knew it would be so exciting, just like in my dreams. We would be better, braver than aurors. We would fight dark wizards from dusk to dawn; each battle more perilous and more challenging than the last. It would be a love story too, the red haired wizard falls for his beautiful, bookish best friend. We would save the wizard community and the three of us would gain eternal fame and glory equally. We would be honored by the ministry and our story would be passed down through generations. Despite my imagination, in my heart, I knew it would never be equal- Harry would once more be the sole hero. I cursed quietly under my breath and glanced over at him. He was lost in thought, calculating something in his head.

Unconsciously, my hand wrapped around part of the pale silk tablecloth and I began clutching it tightly in a fist. I watched Ginny and Ian, smiling smugly at each other with laughing eyes. I watched George and Parvati, my brother trying his best to lessen her discomfort and pain. I watched Neville and Luna, holding hands beneath the table. My fist became tighter and tighter and tighter until I felt my sharp fingernails digging against the table cloth into my palm. I opened my hand to find my palms perspiring with nerves and a sweat-stained tablecloth. I exhaled deeply and wiped my sweaty palms on my knees.

I stole a glance at Hermione, who was listening intently to McGonagall's speech and taking notes on her parchment. I tried to remember a time when I didn't love her in one way or another, but I couldn't. Right now, it was being explained that Charlotte's parents ran the American Order of the Phoenix and news arrived that Bill and Fleur had eloped this morning. Hermione caught my gaze and smiled back at me. My heart filled with warmth and I forgot my nerves, as if her smile was a panacea to my anxiety.

"As lovely as our chat may have been, I have business to attend to. Goodbye everyone," McGonagall said as she crouched into the fireplace, tossing up the green floo powder and then spinning away through thousands of fireplaces per second. Harry caught my glance sharply and I walked towards him, as did Hermione.

"We need to begin planning," he whispered to us amongst the chatter of everyone else. On this night, Harry looked more determined than I had ever seen him. There was a new air about him. He knew what he had to do and he was following through with it. This was the first step on our long journey.

Hermione and I followed Harry up a narrow stone staircase which led to the room Harry and I slept in last night. The beds had been made, the floor swept and the room aired. We each sat on a straight backed chair at a round table. The table was covered in a velvet cloth, red as wine. I chose to keep my hands above the table.

"Tonight I want to go to Godric's Hollow," Harry said, breaking the silence. My eyes were fixed on a tapestry behind him. It was old and dusty, but underneath the age, I could see the once bright colored thread, weaving a scene of a landscape. Over green hills, a blue sky was dotted with white fluffy clouds. Tiny birds flew across the tapestry and rabbits rested in the millefleurs, under a sun made of gilt thread. I soon realized that the landscape was not just any landscape, it was the one viewed from the window behind me. I blinked, bringing myself back to the conversation.

"No," Hermione said, "I think we should stop at Hogwarts first, to speak to Dumbledore's portrait." She watched Harry's face as he considered.

"Good idea," Harry responded, "we shall then spend the night at the Hog's Head Inn."

"Not the Three Broomsticks?" I asked. I was curious why the Hog's Head and not the Three Broomsticks. The Hog's Head Inn was dirty, sketchy and odious. Suddenly, I longed to sit at one of the far corner tables in the Three Broomsticks, with Harry and Hermione, drinking butterbeer and laughing without a care in the world.

"No, it is too crowded there. I'm sure people will be looking for us," Harry answered quickly. His response reminded me that there was so much more to deal with now, so much more to fear.

"How will we get there?" Hermione asked.

"Broomsticks. We will fly," Harry said. Hermione went pale and nodded her head meekly. She was still unsure around broomsticks.

"Don't worry, it will be fine," Harry consoled. "It's safer that way, flying. Apparating is too risky, for all we know we could apparate right into the middle of a group of Deatheaters." Outside, dusk was falling. The sun was beginning to sink into the green hills, a solid orange sky behind it. Hermione stood up and lit the tarnished candelabras around the room. A soft, yellow light filled the room as she pointed her wand upwards toward the large chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Harry glanced at his watch and said, "We will leave at midnight."

* * *

**Ginny's POV**

They were up to something- Harry, Ron and Hermione. I watched them curiously from across the room as they whispered to each other and ascended up the back stairs.

"Ginny," I heard a voice behind me and I turned around. "Would you like to take a walk in the garden with me?" Ian asked.

Not that I wasn't up to it, I just was more interested in what my brother and his friends were scheming. I wanted to know why I wasn't involved. "Erm..I'm sorry Ian," I responded, "unfortunately, I am feeling a bit under the weather, perhaps tomorrow." I smiled my sweetest smile at him.

"Oh well, feel better," he said to me, squeezing my hand.

"I am going to go upstairs to rest. I will see you at dinner."

"Yes, Ginny. Have a good rest," Ian said. I walked up the stairs as fast as I could without blowing my cover.

In the upstairs corridor, there was an old oriental rug which had seen better days. I tiptoed across it as quietly as possible. As I made my way to the door of Harry and Ron's room, I thought to myself over and over again, _accio extendable ear_! A few seconds later, a flesh colored extendable ear came flying towards me and I was impressed by my ability to do silent spells. Harry even struggled with them.

I pressed the extendable ear against the door. "We will leave at midnight," I heard Harry say. Where were they going?

"We should go downstairs to eat dinner now," Hermione said. I heard them all stand up, footsteps approaching the doorway. I picked up my heels and ran as fast as I could towards my bedroom.

The time was 11:56. I threw on a pair of jeans and a navy blue zip-up sweatshirt over my white tank top. I pulled my trainers on and placed my wand in my back pocket.

I walked down the corridor very quietly and sat down in an old armchair outside of Harry's room. From outside, I could hear faint voices and footsteps. After two minutes, the door finally opened. No one noticed me immediately, as I was hidden by the dark. First Ron stepped out, then Hermione and then Harry, each holding a broomstick and knapsack. They began to walk towards the staircase but my voice stopped them. "Where are you going?" I said.

I heard Hermione gasp. "Ginny, please, go back to sleep," Harry said.

Now I was face to face with him. "No. Tell me where you are going, or else I will scream and wake everyone," I whined.

Now a defeated man, Harry looked me straight in the eye. "We are leaving. For a long time. We are going to go find the remaining horcruxes," he said, his voice still as glass, his green eyes serious.

There was a moment of silence, which I finally broke. "I want to come." I don't know what compelled me to say this. First of all, I was not of age. Second of all, I could not apparate and I would probably only be a nuisance.

"No Ginny, you're not ready," this time it was Ron who said it.

"Yes I am," I said with a smile, as my broom and knapsack flew into my hands.

"Did you just do that Ginny?" Hermione asked, amazed.

"Yes. I stole Ron's textbook and have been teaching myself sixth year spells all summer," I told Hermione the truth.

"And they work?" Hermione asked.

"Most of them, yes," I said. I looked at them hopeful.

"No, Ginny. I am not letting you come, it is not safe!" Ron said defiantly.

"Ron, I can barely do silent spells, let her come," Harry said to a scowling Ron. "C'mon, Ginny, we're flying to Hogwarts."

For once in my life, I felt like I was doing something I needed to. It felt right, and I knew it was part of my destiny.

* * *

_A/N: In the next chapter, they will be breaking into Hogwarts. Please send me a review!_


	15. Gifts

**Chapter 15: **Gifts

Once again I was home. The heartbeat of the castle synchronized with my own and I knew I was home. Singing filled my ears, only mine, not Hermione's, not Ron's, not Ginny's. Just mine. It was the ancient magic of the castle singing to me, beckoning and welcoming me home. All worries I had seemed to float away the moment my feet touched the soft earth.

We had no trouble crossing the magical barriers surrounding the castle. It seemed as if they had been left open just for us, as if we were expected. I took a deep breath as my broom sharply descended towards the courtyard. My heart lurched as I realized that it was not filled with the chatter and laughter of students as it usually was. It was completely empty.

The sun was just beginning to rise and I found myself watching Ginny, and taking her in as she was. Beautiful. I sighed heavily and knew that she no longer loved me. I hated myself so much because I didn't know how to handle the feelings I had for her. These feelings were all-consuming, never-ending passion- something too strong and too wonderful to describe. It was over though, at least for her. This was the second time we had broken up. It was over.

A soft, silvery song floated through the morning breeze. It was a tune, lacey and lamenting, and I realized my friends heard it too.

"What is that?" Ginny asked, "It is the most beautiful tune."

"I'm not sure," Hermione said, entranced by the music. "It seems to be coming from the Dark Forest."

"Let's follow it," Ginny said as she shook her hair out. The mass of thick, red hair brushed against my elbow, sending a tingling feeling throughout my body. I moaned softly to myself and hoped no one heard. With just one look at her, I felt the need to protect her forever, not only as her lover, but as her other half.

I remembered the first time I had thought she was beautiful, when I first fell in love with her. It was one summer at the burrow, years ago. She was dancing across the back porch with the Wizarding wireless playing. The humid air smelt of honeysuckle and an approaching storm. Fluffy grey clouds had begun to move in on the late afternoon sun and the sky became darker. I watched her gangly body move to the music badly, but not unnaturally. I remember how I had laughed at her, not in cruelty, in intimidation. Fat raindrops had started to fall from the dark sky, feeling cold against the bridge of my nose and fogging my glasses. I just sat there by the tree and watched her. At twelve years old, I knew nothing of hormones or romance; it was just me and her at that moment, under the same rain cloud.

Ron spoke, bringing me back to earth. "Hey! Isn't that Fawkes singing?" he said.

"Yes," someone spoke behind us, "and it's not coming from the Dark Forest." The four of us turned around and came face to face with Professor McGonagall. _Bloody hell!_ I thought to myself. Now she would never let us complete our mission to find the Horcruxes. She just didn't understand. I was damned. There was nothing I could do. She would take us back to Ron's grandparent's castle where we would sit in four identical straight backed chairs while Mrs. Weasley yelled at us. I knew we would be in more trouble than I had ever seen coming. "What were you thinking?" I could hear Mrs. Weasley say, "You are so lucky you weren't killed!" Not only had I gotten myself in trouble, I had gotten my friends in trouble too.

"Mr. Potter," she began in a soft tone, "don't look so scared and angry. I won't get you in trouble; I won't send you back home." She looked very much out of character in a floppy, wide brimmed sun hat and a washed out, pale green sundress. Her hands were caked with mud and she was holding a copper watering can and a small shovel. "I've just been doing some gardening," she told us, as she held up her watering can and shovel. Hermione and Ginny nodded at her.

"You won't?" I asked. I was completely surprised. I thought we were all screwed.

"No, I won't," she concluded. "Just follow me." I smiled a relieved smile at Ron and he took my side as we followed Professor McGonagall. She took us past Hagrid's gate and stopped at a stone wall covered thickly with vines and moss. She pointed her wand at an old, tarnished fountain with a marble cherub trickling water slowly from its mouth. A portion of the wall swung open, creating a doorway which we all walked through.

"Where are we going, Professor?" Ginny asked.

"Please, I have already made it clear that I would like to be called Minerva," she flashed a row of pearly teeth at us. Trying to lessen the discomfort we felt at her request, she added, "You know, teachers do have first names too. There are Poppy Pomfrey, and Pomona Sprout, Filius Flitwick and Rolanda Hooch and Albus Dumbledore…," she fell silent with the last name and an unavoidable gloom fell over the five of us. McGonagall's faced twitched strangely, just twice, as she tried to hide her sorrow. I watched as she fidgeted with an ancient looking gold band around her ring finger. From the way she was acting, I figured that she and Dumbledore had had something a little bit more than the usual teacher-teacher relationship.

Ginny's question was answered when we arrived at a small, cottage just outside of the Hogsmeade village. It was covered with climbing vines and topped by a thatched roof. There was a small garden in front, blooming with roses, tulips, lupines, snapdragons and bluebells. The fresh smell of the flowers wafted through the summer humidity, potent with the scent of oatmeal raisin cookies.

"Is this your house Prof…I mean Minerva," Ron asked.

"Yes, it is," McGonagall said, "when you come in; please take your shoes off." She removed her tall Wellington boots and placed them outside, dirty with mud. I walked across the flagstone pathway to the green front door. I pushed it open slightly, and then widened the space to allow myself in. It was a quaint room. There was a stone fireplace on the other side of the room and floral curtains draped the windows. A braided rug lay on the floor, beneath an oak coffee table. Across from the fireplace, there was a sofa covered in an off white slipcover and photographs, which looked like family photographs, hung on the wall. I stepped to take a closer look, but the sharp, familiar tone of McGonagall returned to her and I took a step back in haste, "come into the kitchen, Potter," she said, "I have some things to show you."

Ginny's POV

I settled myself in Professor McGonagall's stark clean kitchen. In my hand, I held a hot cup of tea and biscuits in the other. Harry, Hermione and Ron were seated around me. I thought about how each of them was so special to me; Hermione as my best friend, Ron as my brother, and…Harry. At the thought of his name, I drew in a sharp breath. He was so handsome. Whenever I looked into his green eyes, something just drove me insane with desire. Whenever I felt his cool touch against my skin, my body tingled with delight. He did something to me that no guy ever did. I knew that it wasn't only physical, my need for Harry, it was my fate.

I looked towards him. A mixed look of anxiety, patience and confusion was displayed across his face. His black hair was messy as usual and our morning flight put warmth into his pale cheeks. As I looked at him, I felt his effect on me between my legs. Then I looked at McGonagall and it went away.

Harry caught my eye and smiled at me slightly and surely and I was instantly calm and content. If I had been alone, I would have squealed with delight, just like I did the first time he smiled me, the first time I ever saw him. It was at King's Cross Station, in London, on Harry and Ron's first day of school. He was thin, messy and had a beautiful snowy owl which I remember admiring. I had no idea who he was, just another first year, but my ten year old mind knew he was going to be something special, it knew that I would be seeing more of him.

"I need the four of you to know something. I have told it to no students of mine, and it is very personal but it is something you need to know," McGonagall's voice came out smoothly and quietly. "Professor Dumbledore, Albus, had been my husband and the love of my life," she spoke his name with such passion and tried so hard not to weep, "there were already rumors encircling through the student body for many years. I knew had loved him since my first year at Hogwarts and I began dating him, a professor, at the end of my seventh year at Hogwarts. Back then, that kind of thing was condemned, but it was risky, too," she pulled a small picture frame out of the pocket of her dress and passed it to me. It was a picture of her and Dumbledore on their wedding day, both gloating with happiness. She must have been no older than eighteen. It was remarkable how beautiful she was when she was younger. One could never tell now. I imagined Dumbledore always saw her, no matter what, as the beautiful, young student he had risked so much to love.

She paused to take a breath, "that is important for the four of you to know because…because a week before he died, he gave me instructions on what to do in case he died soon…in one of your adventures, Harry," she glanced at Harry. No one said a word. "Of course no one knew that he would die so soon," her voice cracked and she wiped a tear from her eye. "But anyways, he decided to leave something very special to you, Harry, and I myself have taken the liberty to give you a few of his possessions that I know each of you deserve, and each of you will need."

"Sweet!" Ron said. He received a harsh look from McGonagall.

"First, for you Hermione, this is something very old and of very great importance. I will need you to keep this safe and guard it with your life. Don't die for it, of course, but just be very careful," McGonagall pulled an old hatbox from underneath the table. She lifted the lid off the box and pulled out something which made the four of us gasp.

"The Sorting Hat!" Hermione gasped. "Don't you need this for the first years? In September?"

McGonagall looked down at the table, glumly; "there will be no first years this year. I am closing the school down, at least for this year."

"But how will we take our NEWTS?" Hermione exasperated.

"I think you have more important things on your agenda as of now, Hermione," McGonagall said.

"And now for you, Ginny," McGonagall said. I lifted my head up. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the half-moon spectacles Dumbledore had famously worn. "I know they might not be the most fashionable, but you will need to wear them at all times."

"Why?" I asked. I was curious what these glasses could do more than to improve my impeccable vision.

"As you are underage, these will act as an aging device so it will appear that you can perform magic legally," she said as she handed them to me.

I thanked her and took the spectacles into my hand. They were white gold, with two purple stones at the tip of each half-moon. They feel smooth and cold in my hands. Along the edges, I noticed, that there was tiny engraved drawings and the words "Albus Dumbledore: Headmaster of Hogwarts, husband of Minerva McGonagall." If I had not been in McGonagall's presence, I probably would have laughed a bit at this old man's need for identity.

"Ron," McGonagall said. He looked like an excited dog, ready to receive a treat. "As I said to Hermione, what I am about to give you is very old and of very great importance. If I did not think that you deserve, I would not have given it to you. You have really proved yourself, Ron, and I am proud to give you Gryffindor's sword," she unwrapped the sword from an old sheet and handed it to Ron. He just stared at in awe.

"Erm…Minerva. You said Dumbledore left something for me as well," Harry said.

"Oh yes, it's at the window," McGonagall said with a smile. And sure enough, sitting at the open window, was Fawkes, the phoenix.


	16. Godric's Hollow

**I wrote this chapter in an hour. Enjoy. **

* * *

Ginny's POV

Godric's Hollow was a small, isolated island off the coast of northern Wales. It was a quaint, charming place, and I could tell there was magic, ancient magic, deep in the soul of this prominently Muggle village. It was a town of old customs, too. The old men still spoke only in the thick, Welsh tongue and their wives still possessed the old, Welsh superstition of gossiping housewives.

We arrived by a ferry, to dilute any suspicion. As far as anyone knew, we were four teenage friends on summer holiday. When we arrived, I realized tourists were probably a rare fixation is this village.

We left the ferry dock and found our way, easily, to the heart of the village. There were several shops, a bank and a pub. We made our way to the pub, which looked like it was cared for cheaply. As we sat down at a table in the nearly empty pub, a plump, middle aged barmaid arrived at our side. "Hello! I'm Aelwyd. What brings you to Godric's Hollow?" she spoke with a hoarse voice and I concluded she could not be a good singer.

"Vacation," Hermione said quickly.

"And you came to Godric's Hollow?" Aelwyd raised her eyebrows and I could tell she was becoming suspicious.

"Yes. Well we're from London and our parents didn't want to send us to any place where we had a chance of having a wild night," Ron said. _Oh no,_ I thought to myself that Aelwyd would take this the wrong way and throw us out, then blacklist us throughout the town.

Instead, she threw her head back and laughed. "Very bright of your parents. They are right, there is nothing to do in the town in terms of partying for you young folk, but there are other ways to have fun. In fact, this town is one of the most haunted in Wales."

"Is that so?" Harry said nonchalantly.

"Yes. We actually think there are witches on the island," Aelwyd said with a knowing look in her eyes and a slight smile. I almost cried out in shock. I wondered where these witches would be. I wondered if they really were on of us, or if they were just some Pagan hermits living in the woods.

"How do you mean? When you said haunted, I had thought you meant ghosts," Hermione interjected.

"Oh yes, we have tons of those, but what most people come here for is to see the witches," Aelwyd responded.

It was so hard playing it cool like this, if she only knew who we really are. "So, what are all your names?"

"I'm Cleopatra. Cleopatra Simon," Hermione said first. Aelwyd winced at the strange name, "and this is my friend Michael Whiting," Hermione continued as she pointed to Ron, who raised his hand in a small wave. "His sister, Ellen," she gestured at me, and I smiled at Aelwyd. "And my friend John Ackland," she gestured at Harry, who nodded his head.

"Nice to meet you all," Aelwyd said, "can I get you anything?"

"Can I please have a butterbeer," Ron said. I kicked him under the table. Muggles didn't know what butterbeer was, plus, this woman was already suspicious.

"Butterbeer?" the barmaid said. "We don't have any of that, Michael…"

"Sorry, it's a special drink in this teahouse in London," Hermione quickly said, covering up Ron's mistake. "We'll have four sodas, please," she said.

"Of course," Aelwyd said, "coming right up."

We were silent as Aelwyd prepared our drinks at the bar. Anything we said, she would hear, and there was nothing we could say in front of her without blowing our cover. "Cleopatra?" I whispered to Hermione swiftly and very quietly.

I saw her grow pink in the cheeks, "I've always wanted that to be my name. It's such a beautiful name and so historically riveting," she whispered just as quietly.

"And I'm Ellen?" I retorted, "Why I have been Joan of Arc?"

Hermione merely shrugged. "Merlin, you are weirder than I thought," I said in an undertone.

Aelwyd placed the four sodas in front of us. Hermione began sipping hers hastily, but I examined mine before I dared to put it down my throat. Small bubbles rose to the top of the walnut brown liquid, I could not be sure what it tasted like. I moved my lips to the straw and took the tiniest sip. The liquid bubbled in my mouth and it was the most peculiar feeling. The soda tasted tart, nothing like the sweet butterbeer I craved for. I could tell Aelwyd was watching my cautiousness with humor as she drew up the check.

"Please, Aelwyd, will you tell us more about the witches?" Hermione asked.

"Well there is one tale," Aelwyd began, "a local legend actually, and it happened just about sixteen years ago." I knew she was speaking of the Potters.

"They were a lovely young couple, called themselves the Potters, Lily and James were their names," I saw Harry wince at the mention of his parents, and unconsciously, I placed my hand over his. Aelwyd continued, "They were kind and participated in the town often. They went to church every Sunday, but they had their own group of friends…you know, the strange ones. No one suspected they were magic folks. Then Lily got pregnant and she and James withdrew to themselves, rarely leaving their home. Everyone just…forgot about them.

"Then," Aelwyd raised her voice and I could tell we were getting up to the interesting part, "…then, about one year later, there was a mysterious visitor. He was mysterious because nearly no one comes here when he did, in March. He was a short, ugly man. The next thing we knew, the Potter's lifeless bodies were being carried from their house in the dark of night and no one saw anything more of that strange little man."

"So…you think that that couple, the Potters? Were one of those witches?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Well at least Lily was. She could make mean Glamorgan sausages," Aelwyd said with hilarity mixed with nostalgia. "No. Actually we don't think they were. We think they were killed by them. But no one knows why. It's a mystery," she said.

"Wow. That's quite a story," Hermione said.

"Yes, well ever since then, the witch population has greatly decreased here," she said as she cleaned up our empty glasses. Suddenly, I became self-conscious of my glasses and kept my eyes down.

"Don't worry, Ginny," Harry said quietly, almost as if he had read my mind, "the glasses look fine on you." I beamed at him and he squeezed my hand.

"You know, Harry," Aelwyd began, looking straight at Harry, who had a look of shock across his face. He hastily withdrew his hand from my own.

"What did you just call me?" he said, trying to remain as neutral as possible, even feigning a small smile.

She just laughed. "I was wondering when you would give it up, Harry," Aelwyd said.

"Give what up?" Harry asked, playing dumb.

"You're Harry Potter," Aelwyd said, as her hand moved towards his forehead and pushed back his hair. The scar confirmed her guess, "Thought so," she said absently. Harry froze.

"And you two are Weasleys…right?" Aelwyd said, gesturing to Ron and me. "I went to Hogwarts with your parents. Same year, I was in Hufflepuff though. I like Arthur and Molly tell them I say hello." Ron and I looked at each other, each of us equally baffled.

"And your name isn't Cleopatra, is it?" Aelwyd said to Hermione.

"No, it isn't. It's Hermione Granger," she said.

"No its not!" Aelwyd said. "You can't be the famous Hermione Granger!" she said excitedly.

"Umm…I'm not that famous, I have been in the Daily Prophet a few times, but I'm not famous," Hermione said.

"Well you're famous in my house! My son, Owen used to have the hugest crush on you," Aelwyd said with a laugh. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too," Hermione said.

Aelwyd turned to me and Ron again, "I didn't catch your real names, I'm afraid."

"Ron," Ron said.

"I'm Ginny," I said to her. She nodded her head.

Harry finally found his voice, it was small, but it was there, "So…there…is…our…kind…here?"

"Yes," she said with a smile. "Right now you are in the Muggle area of Godric's Hollow, a very small portion of the island. You four have just stumbled upon the most affluent Wizarding areas of all time."

"Then why do you work in a muggle pub?" Ron asked.

"Oh. It was just the job appointed to me by the High Governor of Godric's Hollow. According to him, I'm quite muggle savvy," she said. "I used to be an attorney, but not since I had my children. Six kids, all out of Hogwarts."

"Can I have a butterbeer?" Ron asked her. She probably did have some.

She chuckled and said, "One moment, dear," and she got up and disappeared behind the bar.

"Whoa," Harry said, still nearly speechless, "whoa."

Aelwyd came back and handed a bubbling glass of butterbeer to Ron, which he gulped down quickly. She was now wearing silk, rose colored witches robes and a matching hat. Around her neck was a string of pearls and matching earrings dangled from her earlobes. From her change of dress, one could easily tell she was a very affluent witch. "You may know my oldest son, Owen Cadwallader. He was a seventh year last year, in Hufflepuff of course," she said.

"I know who he is," Ron said.

"I'm so proud of him," Aelwyd said, "he's interning at the ministry right now."

"Wow," Hermione said, "congratulations."

"Thank you," Aelwyd said, gloating. "You know I'm on your side, my husband is a Healer for the Order of the Phoenix. I really want to be out their fighting, but I have arthritis. I fought in the last war; I was great friends with your parents, Harry." He nodded at her and managed a smile. "At first your father wasn't too keen on me. I had been a prefect his first year and constantly got him and his friends in trouble."

"Really?" I said. Now I knew she was trustworthy, I knew she would help us. "Ok…we are going to floo to my house. Here," she handed each of us floo

powder and we lined up by the fireplace.

"Now, say '14 Mandrake Grove, Godric's Hollow,'" she said to us, loud and clear.

* * *

Harry's POV

I stepped out of the fireplace into the most ornately decorated room I had ever seen. A room like this would have made my Aunt Petunia excited, calculating in her head how much everything in the room costs. I looked down and immediately felt shameful at the soot my feet had left on the oriental carpet.

"You know, Harry," Aelwyd said to me. "I am not going to ask why you are, I am not going to try to pry into your life or try to be a mother-figure, but if you ever need help, I am here for you. It is my duty to your parents."

"Thank you," I said to her. Everything was happening to fast for me to ascertain, but I was not nervous in her presence, I felt comfortable and loved maternally.

"I remember the day you were born, Harry," she said softly. I popped my head up. No one had ever told me the story about my birth, not even Sirius.

"Really?" I said to her. "No one has ever told me about it."

She smiled in nostalgia and said, "It was a lovely July day, and your mother and I were drinking afternoon tea in the garden of your old house. She was early into the eighth month, and I had baby Owen on my hip. Then all of the sudden, as I was sipping my Earl Grey, she went into labor. Your father was not home, he was in London with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, buying toys for you. It was completely unexpected, because you were due in late Hogwarts. We both got worried; she had no idea what to do, or how to get in touch with your father.

"I ran to the fireplace and flooed the midwife, who arrived immediately. Your mother was very upset, and refused to give birth to you until James came home. Then, like clockwork, your father burst through the door, arms filled with expensive toys, and found Lily on the floor of the drawing room. He threw the toys down and ran to her side. And then you were born," her eyes filled with happy tears, like those of a doting, spinster aunt. "Shortly after, you and your parents went into hiding."

"Thank you for telling me," I said. I had never met one of my parent's good friends who weren't a marauder.

"I understand that you and your friends will need a place to stay while you are here," she said.

"Yes. Is there an inn or anything nearby?" I asked.

"Oh…don't be silly!" she exclaimed. "I will have the maids make up the guest rooms."

"Thank you, so much," I felt a pang of love for this woman who had known my mother and evidently cared for me like a godson.

"Take a seat," Aelwyd said to me and my friends. Each of us sat down at a different, grand chair. She rang a bell, signifying it was time for tea.

In a moment, a girl descended from the grand staircase. She took my breath away. She was utterly beautiful. I could see Ron was admiring her as well. She had long, blond hair which hung in loose curls down her back. Her eyes were clear blue, deep and inviting and mystical. She looked intently into my eyes and I felt my cheeks growing hot. Aelwyd stood up, walked towards her and kissed her on the forehead. "Everybody, this is my niece, Ariella Brereton," Aelwyd said, "Ariella, this is Hermione Granger," Ariella smiled at Hermione, "Ginny and Ron Weasley," she waved at them. Aelwyd turned to me and said, "And this is…"

"Harry Potter," Ariella intervened with a charming smile. She walked towards me put out her hand, which I shook. "It is such a pleasure to meet you, Harry," she said to me, still maintaining eye contact

"Ariella goes to The Salem Witches Academy," Aelwyd said proudly.

"Oh! Do you know Charlotte Davis?" Ginny said excitedly.

"Yes! Charlotte is my best friend!" Ariella said just as excitedly. She walked towards Ginny, "How do you know her?"

"She lives in my town," Ginny responded.

"Were you at her party a few weeks ago?" Ariella said.

"Yes! Were you?"

"Yes!" Ariella said. "Ohmigod! You were the one wearing that gorgeous green dress!"

"Ohmigod! You were the one in that pink one!" Ginny said. _I'm glad to see my new love interest bonded with my ex-girlfriend so well,_ I thought to myself sarcastically.

A maid came into the room and served us all tea. "Auntie, you really should have houselves," Ariella said. Hermione grimaced.

"Ariella, you know very well I don't believe in the bondage of houselves," Aelwyd said, sipping her Earl Grey.

"Really? That's funny. Neither does Hermione," Ron said.

"Yes, I even have my own organization. It's called SPEW…" Hermione launched into a full-blown description of SPEW and what she hopes to do with it.

I felt a hand creeping up my knee and I looked over and it belonged to Ariella. She looked me hard in the eye and whispered huskily, "Harry, it is really you I would like to get to know better."

* * *

_A/N: Next chapter Harry loses his virginity. But to whom? Please review. _


	17. The One That He Loves

**I LOVE THIS CHAPTER! I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR IT FOREVER!**

* * *

Harry's POV 

"I remember we used to learn about you in school, Harry," Ariella said to me. She was sitting on her bed, a large double bed with a blue silk duvet that matched her eyes perfectly. She had chosen the room to compliment her fair coloring, I realized. Something Ginny would never think of doing, she didn't care that much. I stared at Ariella, concentrating on her raspberry red lips which I longed to kiss.

"Is that so?" I said to her, coming out of my trance.

"I always used to blush whenever they showed your picture," she said in mock shyness as she turned her head away from me. Deep in my heart, I knew her a fool, but she was a beautiful fool. A beautiful fool who wanted me.

"Oh, Harry! Won't you kiss me?" she cried, threw her head back and parted her lips slightly. I approached her, but something was holding me back, and that something was Ginny. I thought of Ian Davis, and how I was sure he had snogged Ginny. Anyways, it wasn't like Ginny and I were together anymore. We had broken up. It was mutual, too. And if Ginny could have a little fun, so should I. I kissed Ariella full on the lips and she responded in delight. I closed my eyes and for a moment, just a moment, I longed for her to be Ginny.

I pulled her linen nightgown off of her, up over her head and I rolled on top of her. She was naked beneath me and my hands roamed her body. She unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down. She pulled my shirt off and our bodies were touching, mine half naked, hers fully. She bent down, and without hesitation, began sucking me where Ginny had on my birthday. Ariella was better than Ginny, I admitted, but with that admittance came the knowledge that there had probably been many other guys before me.

I moaned in delightful pleasure and came in her mouth easily. She swallowed it all down just as easily, and pretended she liked the taste of me. With Ginny there was no faking, no lying. All truths were naked and known between us. We never had to pretend something that wasn't there, just as I was doing with Ariella now.

My hand found the spot between Ariella's legs and she was the one moaning in delight now. "Mmmm…Harry, I would like to feel you in me tonight," she said passionately. Suddenly I realized something. What was I doing here? I cared nothing for Ariella, nothing whatsoever. She was a beautiful nothing. I pulled away from her quickly and said, "I'm sorry, Ariella. I can't do this," and I picked up my pants and shirt. I dressed quickly.

"Harry? What are you doing? Did I do something wrong?" she asked. She looked upset and confused and I really did feel bad doing this to her. But in my heart, I felt like I was cheating on Ginny.

"I'm really sorry," I gave her a quick, cold kiss on the lips. "I really am sorry, but I'm in love with somebody else," I said to her as I fled out the door. I ran down the hallway recklessly and I threw the door open to Ginny's room. I smiled greatly when I saw her, sitting at her desk, sulking. It seems her face brightened when she saw me too.

"Hello, Harry," she said warmly. I wondered if she knew I had gone to Ariella's room. I really hoped she didn't. "What's doing?"

"Would you like to take a walk with me, Ginny?" I asked her. She smiled at me as she has a thousand times before, a smile full of love and warmth.

"Of course, let me just grab my jacket," she said. Being with Ginny was cool and uncomplicated. It was easy to be with her, to be in her presence. We knew when to be quiet and when to talk. We knew when to touch and when to not. We knew when one another needed each other, and I felt like the break up only made my love for her stronger.

It was about nine o clock in the evening. We walked side by side, not touching, down the corridor and down the stairs, careful not to wake Aelwyd or Ron or Hermione. "Where should we go?" Ginny asked me.

"Why don't we just walk around Godric's Hollow, get to know it a bit," I said. She nodded her head in agreement, and slipped her arm in mine. Our arms entwined, my hand found hers and grasped it softly. She squeezed my hand and I squeezed hers back.

"How cool is it that Ariella is best friends with Charlotte!" she said brightly.

"Its very cool," I answered guardedly.

There was a pause of silence between us.

"Ginny, can I tell you something?" I said to her. I needed to tell her about Ariella, to clear my head.

"Of course," she answered. "Well, before I came to see you, I was with Ariella," I said.

She raised her eyebrows. "Go on," she said.

"And I kissed her," I said. Ginny winced.

"Is that it?" she asked me.

"No," I answered quietly. "We almost had sex."

"Oh," Ginny responded. I saw her face darken, and I squeezed her hand, but she pulled it away.

"I told her I couldn't Ginny," I said. "I told her I was in love with somebody else."

Ginny turned and looked up at me, her eyes widening. "Really?" she said silently.

"Yes."

"Were you talking about me?" she asked.

"Yes," I said to her. "I was."

"So you're still in love with me?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. Her eyes brightened.

"I suppose I still love you too," she said. My heart lifted.

"Really?" I said.

"Yes," she slipped her arm back into mine and we walked out the front door into the cool night. The sky was indigo, filled with white specks of stars and a moon half hidden by clouds. She looked up at me, a mischievous smile in her eyes and laughed. "So," she began, "tell me about how she seduced you."

I laughed and said, "Well first she said to me, 'We used to learn about you in school Harry,'" Ginny sniggered and told me to go on. "And then she says 'I used to blush every time they showed your picture,'" Ginny laughed aloud. I loved making her laugh.

"What a sucker," she says to me. We were outside, in an open meadow. "And your even more of a sucker for falling for it," she teased me. I lightly punched her arm and she laughed again. She pounced on me and wrestled me down to the ground.

She stared into my eyes intently and I stared back into hers, just as hard. Her bright brown eyes were filled with a warm heat, which lay before passion and desire she tried to control. We were silent, so silent. I could feel the earth spinning around us as we lay rooted firmly in the wildflowers and tall grasses of the field. A soft summer breeze brought with it the smell of families sitting down and enjoying dinner. Not once did my mind or eyes wander from her. Slowly, the corners of her mouth turned upwards into a contagious smile and she whispered, "Hi, Harry."

I said nothing. Her smile grew and she jumped up and began laughing once more. My heart thumped with a knowing and I knew that if I didn't do something, she would torture me forever with the ghost of a great love we could have once had. The clock was ticking but I still had time to control it. Suddenly, for the first time in my life, my mind cleared and I saw something I had never seen before. Ginny was the one, not Ariella, not anyone else. She had always been and always will be. She was the other part of my soul, my twin flame. She was the one that made me whole and complete and content. She filled me with something no one else ever has, and no one else ever could. I did something more than love her, something more passionate and more intense. "Ginny," I said to her as I grabbed her hand and pulled her down on top of me.

She melted into my arms and rested her head against my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around her and held her to me. When I held her, I knew that everything would turn out all right, that everything would be fine. I knew wherever I was; I would always be with her, dead or alive. She nuzzled her head into my shoulder and closed her eyes softly. That small notion told me she loved me too.

I shifted my weight on top of her and delicately kissed her upper lip. We locked our gaze, each dark with desire, and I knew what she wanted. She slid my pants off and I removed my shirt. We did not need to rush. As far as we were concerned, we had all the time in the world and eternity after that.

I got hard to her with no coaxing, unlike when I was with Ariella. Now I was on top of her, my hardness jabbing against her leg. I did not have to ask her as I would have with anyone else. Her body language, the one I could read so well, told me it was what she wanted, it was what I would have to give her tonight. I stayed above her, careful not to put my weight on her. I slowly and gently slid into her. She cried in pain and bit her lip. "Should I stop?" I asked her, seeing her pained face.

"No. Keep going, Harry," she said. When I looked down at her face, I looked at the face of the most beautiful girl in the world, the one who was the love of my life, would someday be my bride and the mother of my children. She was the one who I would grow old with. She was the one for me. When I was done, I rolled off of her and held her in my arms while she cried silently.

* * *

Charlotte's POV 

"Where are they!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked. She was panicked, worried and frantic. "Where are they!" she repeated. All hell was breaking loose in her mother-in-law's castle. I was not used to this side of her, as opposed to her warm, motherly disposition. She was obviously out of her milieu in this castle, and to tell the truth, she was scaring me.

"You! You had something to do with this!" she turned to a terrified Ian.

"I swear, Mrs. Weasley, I had nothing to do with this," Ian said meekly.

"Yes you did!" Mrs. Weasley had tears in her eyes and her voice was shaking with fear and hysteria. Her husband, Arthur, remained composed.

"No one saw them since midnight," Arthur said calmly. Everyone could tell he was upset, but he was no Mrs. Weasley. "Ian, where were you at midnight last night?"

"I was sleeping," Ian answered.

"And you Parvati?" Parvati glanced at George and blushed.

"I was sleeping as well, Mr. Weasley," Parvati responded.

"And you George?"

"Sleeping," George answered with a cool nonchalance. I knew that something had gone on with him and Parvati, I knew it.

The rest of us were spared the questions when a head formed in green flames inside the fireplace. "Molly?" the voice emitted. It was a woman's voice, hoarse but kind.

"Aelwyd! Is that you?" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed.

"It is nice to speak to you, Molly, it's been a long time," Aelwyd said.

"Yes, I agree," Mrs. Weasley said to her old friend.

"I have news," Aelwyd said. "I have Ron, Ginny, Harry and Hermione."

Mrs. Weasley sighed with relief. "Ok, just send them through the fireplace."

"No," Aelwyd said plainly. "They have made their own decision to be here, and I will not interfere with it. I just thought you would like to know your children are safe." Aelwyd popped out of the fireplace, leaving a bewildered look upon Mrs. Weasley's face

* * *

Ginny's POV 

"Mmm…Ginny," Harry said as he held me close to him. His hands were wrapped around my waist and I wore his sweatshirt over my naked body. "What do we do know?" he said.

"I don't know, just stay here I guess." The bleeding had stopped, but I was still in pain.

"Well do we tell people about us?" he said.

"No," I answered him. I knew he understood.

"Ginny, are you hurting?" he asked me.

"A lot," I said.

"Ok, let's go," he said. He left me on the ground and got dressed. I tried to stand up, but before I could, Harry scooped me into his arms and carried me back towards the house.

* * *

_A/N: Hah! I tricked everyone, didn't I. You all thought he would screw Charlotte! But no, and yes, I do have a few more tricks up my sleeve and you may get a hint or two from this chapter. Please review! _


	18. Red Brick House

**I've had quite an unfortunate case of writer's block, however, my malaise was finsihed this afternoon and sat down and wrote this chapter. It's my longest. Please review!**

* * *

Harry's POV 

The morning sun was bright. Outside the window, I looked out onto the field where I had had Ginny last night. Around me, I could see the large mansions of Godric's Hollow, exclusive to only the wealthiest. I felt resentful when I realized I could have lived my childhood in one of those huge, palatial houses, instead of number 4 Privet Drive. Another reason I had to kill Voldemort.

I rose out of my bed and dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. First, I went to Ron's room. Today we would need to find the Horcrux. I knew it was here, somewhere on this ancient Welsh island. I shook Ron awake and he groaned. "What is it, Harry?"

"Get up," I said to him, "We're going to find the Horcrux today."

"Really? I was hoping we could take this boat tour. I was reading about it in a pamphlet," he said, groggy with sleep.

"Get up," I said curtly.

We heard a small tap on the door, followed by, "Hey. Are you guys up?" from Hermione.

"Yes, come in," Ron said.

The door opened and Hermione and Ginny walked in. I gave Ginny a secret, knowing smile which she returned. "Good morning Hermione, good morning Ginny," I said neutrally. I had this horrible feeling that Ron and Hermione knew what Ginny and I had done last night. It felt as if they had seen me break through Ginny's flesh and had heard her moans and sobs.

To me, Ginny was the most beautiful creature on earth; prettier than any unicorn, or fairy, or veela. I couldn't wait for the day when I could kiss her full on the lips when she woke up in my arms, and we had nothing to hide. I imagined we would have a large, beautiful house somewhere in the country. It would be swarming with children, our children.

"Are we finding the Horcrux today, Harry?" Hermione asked me.

"Yes," I said, "I just don't know where to look."

As I said those seven words, red fog and gold sparks began emitting from the sorting hat. It made a spiral, almost like a tornado. The spiral began to calm down and through the mist, we could see a shape. It was a human shape, large and strong. We heard a hoarse cough and I could now see a man clearly. He was attired as a medieval knight. "Who are you?" Ginny asked. I had a pretty good idea who this was.

"Please beg my pardon, milady. My name is Sir Godric Gryffindor. How do you fare?" the man said.

"Please be kidding," was all Ginny said.

"What is there to kid about? You need to get started, to find that Horcrux," Gryffindor said, looking around the room.

"Is that…is that really you?" Ron asked in disbelief.

"Yes! 'Tis me!" Godric exclaimed.

"Didn't you die in like the twelfth century?" Ron asked

"Well, it is not really me. It is more of a reflection of my persona and my incredibly bonny looks," he said, admiring himself in the mirror.

Gryffindor cast his eyes on Ginny, giving her a fierce, provocative look. "I have never seen a maiden more fair than you," he said to her, "except for my wife." Gryffindor suddenly seemed to be in a trance and he said dreamily, "my wife was the most beautiful maiden ever to live. She was brilliant, and funny and I loved her so much."

Ginny looked like she would retch, but responded kindly, "Thank you." I started hysterically laughing, as did Ron and Hermione, but we all received scathing looks from Ginny.

Gryffindor grimaced. "It is true that you have a Horcrux to find, correct?" Gryffindor said.

"Yes, but how can you help us? You're dead?" Ron said.

"Well, this is my Hollow, isn't it?" Gryffindor retorted.

"But you can't walk around with us," Hermione said, glancing at his armor, "it would draw too much attention, and that's the last thing we need."

"Ah, yes. Fair maiden, you are quite correct," Gryffindor said, turning himself into two gold wristwatches and two pairs of ruby earrings. "The wristwatches are for Ron and Harry," each item said, "the earrings are for the girls. Put them on."

"Oh- and one more thing," the items said, "Ron get my sword."

Ron took it out from under his bed and suddenly it turned into pocketknife. "It will retain its normal shape when you need it," Gryffindor's voice said. "This is where I leave you. Farewell, my friends, and good luck." The Sorting Hat again was surrounded by thick red fog and any trace of Gryffindor, besides the items, disappeared.

"Gryffindor does have a point," Hermione said.

"About what?" I asked her.

"We need to disguise ourselves," she said. "I mean, everyone knows who you are Harry, and Ron, Ginny and I have each showed up in the Daily Prophet a couple of times, and I think its best to disguise ourselves."

"You're right," I said to Hermione. She was always right, "But will you do the disguise charms?" Ron and I were horrible at them and Ginny still hadn't learned them.

Hermione groaned, but I could tell she was thrilled to do it. "Fine," she said, "I'll do it."

We all thanked her with huge smiles. "Ginny, you first," Hermione said. With a flick of Hermione's wand, Ginny was now a brunette with shoulder length waves, and large hazel eyes. Her nose was changed, as were her lips. I couldn't tell it was her.

"Now you Harry," she said as she turned to me. To tell the truth, I was scared of what she would turn me in to. She pointed her wand at my hair and I felt my hair follicles tingle. There was no mirror, so I could not see how I looked. Then, she pointed her wand at my eyes, which felt normal and my nose felt like someone was trying to pull it off.

"Weird," she said, "You're eyes won't change."

I shrugged. "Just ignore it," I told her.

"All done," she said. As she turned to Ron, I found a mirror. As Hermione said, my eyes were still the same, but now my hair was mahogany brown and my nose slightly larger. Ron was finished, and he now had dark blond hair and green eyes, otherwise, not much different. Hermione by far made herself the prettiest. She gave herself long, golden hair and eyes that were almost violet. Her nose was perfect, and so were her lips. I could see Ginny looking at her disdainfully.

When I was sure Ron and Hermione were not looking, I slipped my hand onto the small of Ginny's back. I had memorized every bump in her spine and the two back dimples on her lower back that I found so sexy.

Hermione turned around and I quickly moved my hand onto the table, to make it look like it had been resting there. "Shall we go?" she said brightly. Despite her sunny disposition, I could tell Hermione was nervous.

Ginny's POV

My thighs were sore from last night. It took me so long to rise out of bed this morning and after that, I was careful not to sit down. I know Harry had tried to be gentle, but he was still very rough. I hoped that next time would be better.

"How are you feeling?" he asked me quietly as we walked down the corridor in our disguises.

I looked at him and put on my best brave face, but I knew I couldn't lie to him, he would see right through me. There was no use. "I feel so sore," I said to him. His striking green eyes filled with compassion and warmth.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Don't worry," I told him, "The pain should go away soon." I managed a faint smile.

"I hope so."

There was a long pause. "So, umm…would you want to do it again someday?"

"Someday," I smiled at him and he beamed back.

"Someday soon?" he pushed in jest.

"Well that all depends," I looked at him provocatively and walked ahead of him, making sure he was following me. Ron and Hermione were ahead of us and Harry grabbed my hand and pulled me away into an adjacent corridor. He cupped my face with his hands and kissed me fervently.

"I'm not feeling sore anymore, Harry," I said to him as he kissed down my neck.

He looked up at me and smirked. "You sure?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"So you want to?"

"Yes, I do." A stupid grin washed across his face as he unbuttoned my jeans and slid into me, rough and fierce, but gentle and passionate at the same time. He pierced me with lust and this time was so much better than last night. I kept pushing him harder, deeper into me until I couldn't handle it anymore. I realized I liked it rough and hard and quick. I didn't like any of that stupid foreplay and soft kisses, I just wanted it severe and I wanted him to overwhelm me with passion. Harry was my sexual equal and the passion I felt with him, I knew I couldn't feel with anyone else, ever.

When we were finished, Harry and I went back through the corridor and down the stairs. We met Ron and Hermione in the sitting room, and Hermione burst into laughter when she saw us. "What's so funny?" Ron demanded. "Why are you laughing?"

"It doesn't matter Ron," Hermione said through laughter. I knew Hermione knew, and I caught her eye. "Whore," she mouthed to me. I grimaced back at her.

Ron groaned. "Why doesn't anyone ever tell me anything?" I could only imagine the scene that would take place if Ron knew. I realized that it would be humiliating for him if he found out his younger sister had had sex before he did, and with no other but his best friend, Harry. I looked over at Harry and saw he was probably thinking the same thing.

"I think we should go to my parent's house first," Harry said.

"Do you know where it is?" Hermione asked.

"No," he sighed. "I don't, and I don't know how to find it either."

"But I do," a voice boomed from Harry's watch. Gryffindor's voice. "Just follow the watch."

The watch hand changed, pointing at twelve, which now said north. The watch had become a compass and it marked the real beginning of our journey and the end of our childhood. My heart lurched as I realized I would never again have a carefree day spent by the lake at Hogwarts, laughing and joking with Harry, Hermione and Ron. Never again would I have the cradle of simplicity and the lightheartedness of childhood to fall back into when it all got tough. Now I would have bigger things on my hands, like helping Harry defeat Voldemort to determine the fate of the Wizarding community.

_Oh Merlin_, I thought to myself with a sigh. All I wanted to do was to be little again. All I wanted to do is to curl up under my covers when the thunder and lightning scared me, to disappear into an enchanted world of toys and to eat so many pumpkin pastilles that I threw up. I wanted to swim naked in the lake at the burrow without a care in the world and have my father read me fairy tales before he put me to sleep, changing his voice to accommodate each character, making me laugh uncontrollably. I wanted to crack the eggs when I made cookies with my mom, believing it was the most exciting thing in the world. I wanted to cry when I got hurt and not worry about being brave. For a moment, I thought if I got back on my broom, I could fly back home and everything would be in place again. At the burrow, I would find everyone sitting down to dinner and everything would be all right again.

I couldn't control myself, I couldn't stop. I began to cry. The tears ran down fast, stinging my cheeks and lips.

"Ginny?" Hermione said in a tone of concern, "…are you all right?"

I didn't answer her, I just sobbed. I cried for my lost childhood, I cried for the family I might never see again, the home I had left, the uncertainty of my fate. I cried for everything that had ever been or ever will become of me. I cried for the sake of crying, and when I was done, everyone sat around me shell-shocked.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said, and they all respected that.

"I think we should go then," Ron said.

"Yes," I answered weakly, "I'm ready."

Harry's POV

My parent's house looked like one of those houses you would see when you drove through the English countryside, large and stone, with an air of neglect and abandonment. Unruly vines crept up the red brick façade and weeds grew through the cobblestone drive. "It's beautiful," Hermione said under her breath. She was right. It was beautiful, and it was my home.

I walked towards the front door, and my first instinct was to knock on the large, brass knocker in the shape of a lion. The doorknob was weathered and worn and it took a great amount of force to open. I could tell nobody had been here since that night.

A butterfly staircase stood in the center of the foyer. The floor was black and white marble tile and the walls were adorned with old, idle portraits. To my left was a library. The walls were made of dark wood paneling. An open book sat on the arm of a heavy velvet armchair and on the floor was a teacup that had been knocked over. This was where my dad had been killed.

We drifted from room to room quietly. In my head, I tried to replay memories that may have happened in each room; my mother and father teaching me how to walk on the terrace, tea in the drawing room each afternoon, Christmas dinner at the dining room table. Nothing appeared vivid to me, all I had now was my imagination. This house was a stranger to me.

I stood in my parent's room. My mother's pearl necklace rested on the vanity table and the bed was unmade. Afternoon light slipped through the sheer curtains, illuminating the room with a comfortable glow. A tube of toothpaste sat uncapped on the bathroom sink and a collection of perfume bottles were covered with dust.

Suddenly everything came back to me in a vivid, uncontrollable rush. It was before nightfall, my father had been pushing me in the baby swing on the large oak outside. The autumn leaves were turning colors, but it was a warm October day. My father said, "Here we go, Harry! This time you're going to the moon!" and he would push me and I gurgled in delight. My mother was in the kitchen, preparing dinner and watching my dad and me with joy. She smiled at us and waved, her green eyes twinkling. "Wave at mummy, Harry!" my father said, and I picked up my pudgy little baby hand and waved at her.

My mother was marinating a chicken while singing loudly, and badly, to the Wizarding Wireless. I came toddling in through the back door, my father holding my hands in his and balancing me. My mother bent down and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Hello love, its time for your nap." I whined in disapproval, only wanting to play more.

"Come on, Harry," my father said, picking me up and carrying me over to a bassinet in the sitting room. He settled me into the pale blue linens and I took a heavy breath and fell fast asleep.

A smile on his face, my father approached my mother at the sink and began kissing her down her neck. He wrapped his arms around her stomach, still pudgy with weight from her pregnancy. She turned her head around and kissed him. Her hands in rubber gloves, she wrapped them around his neck, deepening the kiss. He pulled away and led her to their bedroom upstairs. My mother was wearing a white sundress, which my father pulled up over her head and began kissing her all over her body. Lying together on the bed, my father entered her and she began moaning and sighing in delight.

Loud cries emitted from downstairs and my mother muttered, "Bloody hell," and pulled out from under my father. She threw on a pink bathrobe and ran downstairs.

I had woken from my nap and wanted attention. My mother was coddling me in her arms while I was drinking chocolate milk. A few moments later, my father came downstairs and took me in his arms and we went into the library. He pulled out a large, dusty, leather bound book from the shelves and sat me on his knee.

"King Arthur and The Round Table," my father said, opening the book to reveal vivid, moving pictures of medieval knights and beautiful maidens. "Look, that's King Arthur," he said, pointing to a large, broad man wearing a crown. "And that's Queen Guinevere and Sir Lancelot," he pointed to a couple dancing merrily to the minstrel's song. "And that's Merlin," he pointed to an old man, with long white hair and a matching beard. Merlin was wearing celestial wizarding robes and he was surrounded by people.

"Once upon a time, England had no king. A very powerful wizard named Merlin put a permanent sticking charm on a sword and stuck it in a rock," my father began to say, summarizing the real story. "A young boy named Arthur was the only one who was able to pull the sword out of the rock, and he became the king…"

"James! Harry! Dinner!" my mother called from the kitchen.

The sun was setting in the orange sky as we sat down for dinner. My parents sipped on red wine while I sipped on apple juice. I ate spaghetti-o's, and got defensive when my father tried to spell out my name in the soup, "Harry James Potter".

"It's a shame we can't take him trick-or-treating tonight, James," my mother said, "He would have so much fun."

"Well as soon as Voldemort is dead we will take Harry trick-or-treating every night of the year," my father said, smiling wryly at my mother.

"I hope it's soon. I hate living in seclusion like this. I miss having tea with my friends and the only person that ever visits us is Sirius," she said.

"And what's wrong with Sirius?" my father asked defensively.

"Nothing," my mother said sardonically. He raised his eyebrows. I sat in my highchair watching a rat outside while my parents washed the dishes.

"I'm going to go put Harry to sleep," my mother said to my father, gathering me in her arms.

"Goodnight Harry," my father said and kissed me on the forehead. "I will be up soon Lily, I just want to read for a little bit," he said to my mother and he kissed her on the cheek. That was the last time she ever saw him.

"Hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, the cow jumped over the moon," my mother sang to me softly as I lay in my crib. "The little dog laughed, to see such a sport and the dish ran away with the spoon."

"Goodnight, love," she said and kissed me on the cheek. My eyelids closed heavily and I fell asleep.

My mother shut my bedroom light off and closed my door halfway.

My father was sitting downstairs in the library, drinking tea and reading a book about quidditch.

My mother walked down the hallway to her bedroom and sat on her bed, reading Witch Weekly.

A dark hooded figure was standing outside the front door, talking hastily and quietly to a rat.

My father made a note to himself to have Sirius go to the quidditch shop for him tomorrow, he wanted a new broom.

The dark hooded figure was slowly approaching the front door.

I began to cry and my mother stood up and walked towards my room.

The dark hooded figure opened the front door of my house, arriving in the foyer.

My mother picked me up out of my crib and comforted me.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ the dark hooded figure, a man, pointed his wand at my dad. Dead.

"Shh…it's all right, Harry, it was just a bad dream," my mother cooed.

The dark hooded figure was walking up the stairs with his wand out.

My mother sat down with me in the rocking chair and began reading "Peter Rabbit."

The dark hooded man walked down the upstairs hallway, mud from his heavy boots tracking down the cream carpet.

My mother popped her head up, as if she heard someone, "Just daddy," she said to me.

The footsteps were getting louder and she popped her head a tiny bit out the door and stifled a gasp. A terrified look passed over her face and she wrapped me in a blanket. "Shh…" she said. She opened the window to climb out, but it was too late. The dark hooded man appeared in the doorway and my mother tightened her grasp around me and bit her lip.

"Trying to run, Lily?" he said. He ran a cold hand across her cheek and my mother shook with terror, too paralyzed to move. "I've always thought you were beautiful, Lily, even for a mudblood. It would be such a disappointment if you were to die."

She didn't respond.

"That is why, out of the kindness of my heart," he said coldly, "I am giving you the chance to run and leave your son here. Don't worry; I will take good care of him," he ran his tongue across his smooth, yellow teeth. His skin looked pale and sallow beneath his black hood.

My mother finally found her voice and screamed at the top of her lungs, "James!"

"He's not here, Lily," the man smiled, "I killed him a few minutes ago."

My mother gasped and held me tighter.

"Run, Lily," he said, "Get out of here. Put the boy down and run."

"No," she said quietly.

"What was that?"

"No," she said louder. "No. I am not going to run. Take me instead, kill me instead, don't kill Harry, please, please Lord Voldemort, please."

"You had your chance Lily," the man said, pointing his wand at her, _"Avada kedavra!" _My mother fell to the ground, dead.

Nothing stood between Lord Voldemort and this helpless baby. He laughed cold and heartlessly and said, "What I finally have been waiting for." He pointed his wand at my head and said the same spell he said to my mother.

Like opposite ends of a magnet, the spell retracted, and then backfired, and the man fell to the ground with a hard thump. I began to cry.

A very handsome young man with black hair arrived at the door. He didn't knock, but let himself in like this was his own house. "James? Lily? It's Sirius!" he called. No answer. He looked to the side of him and saw James lying on the floor of the library.

"Fuck!" he ran over to his friend and began shaking him violently. "James! James! Wake up!" Tears welled up in his eyes and he finally checked James's pulse. Nothing. Sirius bit his lip and stood up.

"Lily! Lily! Lily! Where are you?" Sirius screamed loudly. He walked up the stairs, following the track of mud down the cream carpet. Sirius checked in James and Lily's room. No one. Sirius began to run as fast as he could towards my room.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Sirius screamed as he saw Lily's and Voldemort's bodies on the floor. "Holy shit," he said. He spotted, me looking utterly terrified and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Harry," he said softly to me, picking me up in his arms. He kissed me on the cheek and muttered, "What happened?" as he ran his fingers across the fresh lighting bolt scar on my forehead. He looked from me to Voldemort. "You've killed Voldemort," Sirius said joyously.

* * *

_A/N: I have a new fanfiction about Lily and James. You should read it. Please review._


	19. Love

**I love this chapter! It is so romantic! Please review. **

**PS: POV means point-of-view, some of you have been asking about that.**

* * *

Charlotte's POV

For the next few days, Draco had told me his life story in the privacy of my room. He would lay on the chaise lounge while I sat in the comfortable arm chair, just like a shrink and her patient. During those times, Draco became himself for the first time in his life. For once, he had a break from putting on a show of toughness and braveness and evilness, he was just another teenage boy.

He told me about how his parents had once been very much in love, but now his father had a mistress in London, leaving his mother alone in a cold estate up north. He told me about how he had slept in a room every night of his childhood with an oil painting of the dark mark hanging above his bed. He told me how had never been allowed toys, or candy when he was home. He had to learn to be ascetic. Once his mother learned his father was having an affair, she began sending him packages full of candy everyday, which kept Crabbe and Goyle fat.

It was not right and we both knew it, but we were each falling for each other. I couldn't admit it to myself, and I don't think he could either.

No one had ever looked at me the way that he did. Me, marginally pretty, was confused because he was better looking than me. His white blond hair fell above his turquoise eyes and he constantly had a half-amused expression on his face, as if he was laughing at something no one else could see. He looked like a prince charming, made just for me. I sighed at my childish daydreams, but I couldn't get them out of my head.

When I was with him, I didn't worry about snorting when I laughed or telling stories I knew no one else thought were funny, but he always did. Sometimes, we would sit on my bed, with the door shut from the world, and imitate Mrs. Weasley, or Mrs. Weasley the Older, or Fred or George or whoever had the misfortune of being the prime object of our criticism. When he imitated Mrs. Weasley, he would flail his arms in the air and admit a panicked expression across his face. When he adopted a high pitched voice to boot, I would laugh so hard that I began to cry and had to sit down for five minutes, just to calm down. One time he had imitated the older Mrs. Weasley, wrapping a white sheet around his head to copy her long, white hair. It would swing back and forth wildly as he reproduced her pompous, elegant ways. It would have been funnier had she not walked in on it.

Sometimes we would listen to muggle music, and scream this "rap music" on the top of our lungs in the middle of the night. Draco and I both had such talented voices; we could break glass very easily. While our contemporaries were still hooked on the Weird Sisters, we had been raiding muggle houses each night and stealing these things called CDs, and now we had discovered The Sex Pistols and Beyonce.

Draco was my only friend here since Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had left. However well we got along, our relationship was tested when sides were brought up. Draco was very rooted in "The Dark Lord" as he called him, and I with the Order. A relationship wouldn't work, I told myself, but tears came anyways.

"What's wrong, Charlotte?" Draco asked me. I hadn't even heard him come in the room.

"Nothing," I answered, wiping my tears away with my sleeve. "I'm fine." He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

"Come on," he said to me, taking me by the hand. "I want to show you something."

The night air was chilly and I pulled my sweater tighter around my body. Our path was lit by stars and a crescent moon and I would jump every time I heard an owl hoot. Draco and I were silent, but loud in presence. "To the right," he said in his head to me, and we turned right. We had discovered we could do this a few days ago. "I'm thinking of a number between one and forty-five," Draco said to me one morning.

"Thirty-seven?" I asked with no hesitation.

"Yes," he said to me, measuring my glance.

"Weird," I said.

"Now I'm thinking of a number. One between forty-five," I said.

"Seven?" said Draco.

"Yes," I said in shock. It went on and on until we were communicating long sentences and images through our head.

"Look at this," Draco said aloud. We were standing on the top of a hill, in the center of an ancient Druid observatory.

I laughed shortly, more out of interest than humor. "This is incredible. How did you find it?" I asked him.

"I was looking for my owl the other day. Couldn't find him," he said. His sexy British accent drove me crazy. I liked it so much better than the annoying American accents of all the other boys I knew. I seriously contemplated adopting one myself, but decided against it because I figured I would sound like a moron.

Draco sat down on a large boulder and motioned for me to join him. He slipped his arm around my waist and drew me towards him. Then he kissed me- short and sweet. He pulled back and smiled at me. I smiled back at him and rested my head into his shoulder. At that moment, beneath the stars, I did not think about the sides we were on in this war we were fighting, I just thought about the way his lips had pressed against mine so gently and passionately, sending wonderful shivers down my spine.

Ginny's POV

"Harry? Are you ok?" I asked him. He had been in a trance like state for about five minutes.

He shook his head and said, "The Horcrux isn't here."

"What?" Ron asked him slowly.

"The Horcrux is not here," Harry repeated.

"How do you know that?" I asked.

"I just do," he said. I looked into his green eyes and with a smile; I remembered all the old times we had together. I remembered when I was not able to talk when I was around him, when I had loved him from afar, and I remembered the first time he spoke to me. I remembered the first time he had kissed me, in the Gryffindor common room, how when his lips pressed against mine, my childhood fantasy finally came true. I was so shocked that I had finally kissed his real lips, not the posters of him that I cut out of TeenWitch magazine. And I remembered last night, when we were finally together in the strongest way.

He looked back into my eyes, and knew what I was thinking. He smiled at me, and despite Ron and Hermione's presence, he took a step towards me and without saying anything, he wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me full on the lips. My mouth curved into a smile, knowing that this was love; not caring about who knows or who is watching, acting without thinking and constantly having this wonderful feeling in your stomach. This simple kiss from Harry said more to me than any other action had. Never before in my life had I felt so complete. I felt like I was walking on the moon, with Harry in hand.

Harry broke away from me and gathered me into his arms, like a groom holding his bride. "Please excuse us," Harry said to Ron and Hermione, "I don't know how long we will be. Make yourselves at home." He smiled up at me and I laughed. Ron and Hermione were speechless with shock as Harry brought me into his parent's bedroom and locked the door behind us.

Hermione's POV

"Hermione," Ron said, staring at the closed door before us. Ron turned a stark white, he knew what his best friend was doing with his younger sister and he did not like it. I ran my fingers through his hair and hugged him.

"Let's go downstairs," I said to him. "I will make you tea."

"Ok," he answered meekly. I held his hand and led him downstairs to the kitchen.

This house was so dusty. I muttered cleaning spells back and forth as I walked through the foyer and into the kitchen. I found the tea kettle on the stove, covered with a thick layer of dusk. I cleaned it up and began to boil the water. Ron was sitting at the table, with his head in his hands. I took one of his hands and rubbed it. "Oh, Ronnie, don't worry. I know that Harry loves Ginny a lot," I said to him, trying to console him in this awkward situation.

"It's just…it's just…," he began, stuttering.

"It's just what?"

"It's just that he's my best friend and he's sleeping with someone, and so is my little sister. I mean, I don't mind that I don't sleep with you Hermione, I would love to sleep with you, but I know you don't want to," he said quietly. His cheeks and ears were turning a fiery red and I looked him in the eye.

"Ron, if it's so important to you, I will," I told him. I was nervous, and I was not a slut, but I loved Ron so much and he seemed upset.

"No Hermione. You want to wait; I don't want to make you. I don't need to sleep with you in order to love you," he said. My heart lifted and I smiled. There were tears in my eyes because I knew that this was it. This was who was meant for me. This is who I would spend the rest of my life with.

"I love you Ron," I kissed him lightly on the lips and the tea kettle began to whistle.

George's POV

Parvati came into my room with a serious look on her face. Her dark hair was swept into a loose ponytail and like usual, he large, brown eyes were rimmed with tears. "Hi George," she said to me.

"Come here," I gestured to her. She sat down on the bed next to me and I wiped her tears away with my thumb. For some reason, I felt like I had wiped another girl's tears away before, but I couldn't remember whose.

She looked up at me; her eyes were calm and soft. "George, I think my sister may still be alive."

"Really?" I asked her, shocked. "I will help you; we will do everything possible to look for her."

"Thank you," she said to me, kissing me on the lips. I pushed her gently onto the bed and removed her clothes. She was perfect for me, maybe not for anyone else, but just for me.

Once we finished, Parvati lay in my arms and I said to her, "You know what would be nice."

She turned to face me, "What?"

"If we got married," I said, nonchalantly as possible. I really could imagine Parvati as my wife. I would love her until we both were dead, and even afterwards.

"I'm too young, George," she said to me.

"No you're not, you are seventeen," I told her.

"I suppose so…" she said.

"So is that a yes or a no?" I asked her, unsure.

A huge grin swept across her face and she said, "Yes! Yes! I will marry you, George."

"Wonderful!" I exclaimed, picking her up in my arms and twirling her.

"How about tomorrow?" she said.

"Yes! We could elope…and then go to India to look for Padma!" I told her.

Parvati answered with a smile. "We must tell no one, George."

"What about Fred?" I asked her. He was my twin brother; he had a right to know.

"Ok, but he must not tell anyone," she said seriously.

"He won't, I will make sure of it," I said to Parvati.

"It sounds so cool! You are my fiancé, George!" Parvati said.

"Come tomorrow, I will be your husband," I said.

McGonagall's POV

As Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione left, I was once again alone. I thought of Albus, my beloved Albus. He had risked so much to love me. I would never forget it.

It was my seventh year at Hogwarts. I was the brilliant, beautiful and popular girl that everyone had wanted to be. I could have had any boy at Hogwarts, but there was only one that I wanted- the Charms teacher and I couldn't have him.

I remember it as if it were yesterday. I sat in Charms class, watching the rain pound against the windows on the April day and dreaming of the professor.

"That is all for today, goodbye everyone," the professor said. I gathered up my books to leave, but he said, "Stay here Miss McGonagall." I was shocked and confused at why. Everyone knew I was the best student in the class.

I approached him slowly, cautiously and kept myself in check, careful not to let any of my feelings show. "How are you Miss McGonagall?" he asked me.

"Fine, and you, Professor?"

"I do not think you are so well, Miss McGonagall," he said, with a look in his pale blue eyes that I could not read. "You have been looking out the window quite a lot," he said, "Would you like to tell me about it?"

"I'm just very stressed, studying for NEWTS," I answered quickly.

"No, Minerva, I do not think it is anything academic," he said. I was taken aback, never before had he addressed me as Minerva, he had only called me Miss McGonagall before.

I didn't respond. "You know, I am a very skilled legilimens," he said with a sideways smile.

I gasped and covered my mouth. "You mean…you mean you read my mind," I said through short breaths. I began to cry, knowing now that I was ruined, academically and socially. No one would dare talk to me or call on me in a class. Tears ran heavily down my cheeks as I sobbed.

Dumbledore just continued to sit there, with his small smile. He took a step towards me, and put his hands on my face and looked me in the eye. Before I realized what was happening, our lips were locked and my arms were around his neck. He pulled away and said, "Minerva, I have loved you ever since the first time you stepped foot in my class, seven years ago, raising your little hand, knowing every answer." My lips curved upward as I looked into the face of the man that I was meant for.

* * *

_A/N: The more you review, the quicker I update!_


	20. Back Home

**Sorry I haven't updated in awhile. I have been in St. Barths and I am quite tan. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please review!**

* * *

Harry's POV 

Like a thousand times before, a raven haired boy lay with a redhead girl in this bed. It used to be Lily and James, my father and mother, but now it was Ginny and I.

"Harry?" Ginny said. "What are we going to do about Ron and Hermione?"

I didn't want to talk about them. I just wanted to be here with Ginny, as we were now, forever and ever. I could live every day in her arms and never be discontent. She made me happier then anyone or anything else in the world. "I don't know," I answered, "I guess they will just have to live with it." She rolled onto her side and kissed me on the lips. Hermione's disguising spell had worn out and Ginny was once again herself. She once again possessed the beauty I loved. I grasped her thick red hair in my hands and embraced her tightly.

Charlotte's POV

I lay half-drowsy in my bed, the curtains drawn, and myself agog with the excitement of the kiss from Draco. It was light and sweet and lovely. It was not my first kiss, yet it felt like it. I felt like I could walk on water, I was on top of the world.

Thoughts and ideas flowed into my head; thoughts about Draco and me. Thoughts like "maybe he will kiss me again," and even farfetched ones where I was considering whether or not to have white or red roses at our wedding. I felt as if I had taken ecstasy, I was drugged with the hope and bliss of something so simple as a kiss. In my heart, I knew it would never amount to anything. He was a death eater, I was in the order. It was like black and white, opposites, but when they come together, the vision before you becomes a foggy gray. I would never admit this to myself, never let the words touch my lips, never let it surface to the front of my mind. I wanted to be oblivious, and I made myself so.

Instead I tried to keep my eyes open, not wanting to go to sleep. I knew that if I fell into the land of nod, this day would be over sooner. I thought if I stayed awake, it would never end. My eyelids felt heavy, my eyelashes were just beginning to touch. I would flutter my eyes, trying not to close them. I gave in; I will just close them, I will not fall asleep, I will just lay awake with my eyes closed…simple as that. Simple as that…

I was beginning to surrender to sleep. The blankets over me felt so warm and cozy and I pulled them tighter around me. My head fell onto the soft pillow and if I tried, I could not move my legs, but I did not want to move them. They were comfortable as they were. If I tried to talk, I would not be able, but I did not want to talk. I was ready to enter my dreams, to live in my sleep in vivid color in a world of my own, away from worry, troubles, war. A world where I longed to be, in my old home, the Berkshire Mountains surrounding and protecting my home. I longed for the scent of pine needles and approaching storm and the stench of fertilizer, shed liberally over fields which would grow into tall, golden stalks of corn. I was so far away, but when I dreamed, I was there. I was in my bucolic paradise, alpenglow reflecting off the mountains as the sun set over them. I wanted to dig my feet deep into the fertile soil and announce to no one in particular, "I'm home."

I was almost there. Behind my eyelids, I could faintly see the morning mist embracing the mountains, summer humidity lingering in the air. Soon it would be time to harvest; soon I would see the heads of each stalk of corn and the cows grazing in the thick, green grass. Country music was playing on a radio from a nearby store on the fork of the dirt road I was walking down. The cows on the fields beside the road lay down on their sides. A storm was coming. The smell of freshly baked blueberry muffins wafted from the open kitchen window of a house. Weeds and wildflowers in the unruly grass brushed against my legs as I walked. Storm clouds began to cover the brilliant blue sky and thunder cracked off in the distance. "One…two…three…four," my pace quickened to a run, "ten…eleven…twelve." I winced as I heard the thunder crash again. It was twelve miles away.

My armpits were sticky with sweat and a cool, soft rain came down upon me. I lifted my arms above my head, welcoming it. I lapped up the rain like a cat lapped up milk. Rain was dripping off my face, over my eyelashes, my lips, my chin. The road was becoming soft as the dirt turned to mud, and I took my shoes off, letting my toes sink into the soft, yet rocky mud under me. The mud squished between my toes, the best feeling in the world. A bolt of lightning crashed over the mountains beside me and ahead of me, I saw the crabapple tree that was planted in my front yard and I knew I was home.

My house was empty. Just the way I liked it. It looked like I had been there for awhile; I had just stepped outside to take a walk. A finished bowl of cereal waited in the sink to be cleaned and one of my sweatshirts was draped over the banister on the staircase. A book lay open on the coffee table in the living room, the Shakespeare work I was reading currently. I glanced at myself in the mirror in the front hall. My hair, my clothes, all soaked with rain water. I didn't care.

There were no lights turned on in the house, but it was not dark. My fingertips skimmed the decorations on the chest that the mirror rested above; the porcelain miniatures, the silver picture frames, my mother's lipstick. A small circle of dust stuck to my fingertip. I wiped it on my shorts. The screen door creaked and Draco appeared in the doorway. I was not surprised; it was almost as if I had been expecting him. "Hello Charlotte," he said to me as he leaned against the molding surrounding the door.

"Hello," I answered back, almost inaudibly. The rain had stopped outside and I smiled to myself.

He walked over to me and took my thin hands in his own. I looked up into his eyes. Eyes like robin's eggs. In my childhood, I would build little fairy houses on top of rocks. The carpet would be plush, green moss that I would peel off the ground and the fairies would sleep in cherry blossoms that I would pick off the cherry blossom tree in the garden. And, if I was very lucky, I would find one of those rare, coveted robin's eggs. It would usually be cracked, and if it wasn't, if it was still whole, I would look hard for its nest. Those cracked robin's eggs would become bathtubs or beds or chairs for the fairies and I would smile upon my creation. I left them overnight, because fairies, like everyone else needed a place to sleep. When I woke in the morning, the house would be either just as I left it, or destroyed. If it was destroyed, I knew that the fairies had visited last night and I felt the easy joy and delight of a childhood achievement.

"Charlotte, I cannot stay," he said to me. He was not clear, but somehow, I knew what he meant. He kissed me lightly on the lips and I let him go. "Take this," he enclosed a flower in my hand. "I will be back one day. I promise," he called to me as he ran out the door and over the horizon. For some reason, I felt no feeling of loss. Just fatigue. I climbed up the creaky wooden stairs onto the second floor. I made a right into my bedroom. Not bothering about the covers, or sheets, or pajamas, I fell into bed and entered a deep sleep.

When I awoke the next morning, I found a flower in my hand, one of the forget-me-nots that grew outside in the castle garden.

Ginny's POV

I dressed, and Harry dressed, and we had waited long enough. It was now time to leave the threshold of the bedroom. A night had passed, a night of slow, passionate lovemaking between Harry and I, and morning had come, a morning in which we have to face Ron and Hermione. I followed Harry downstairs and into the kitchen. Ron and Hermione were sitting at the table. Hermione's face was calm as soft falling snow on a winter day, while Ron was red up to his ears. Embarrassment, anger, I could not tell, but when he saw us. He dropped the toast with jam he was eating onto his plate, and would not look Harry or I in the eye. An air of awkwardness engulfed the room and Hermione, trying to lessen it, said brightly, "Good morning! Harry! Ginny! Breakfast for you two?" Ron winced at "you two". A couple, he identified us as. He did not burst out in anger, as I expected him to. Hermione had obviously gotten to him.

"Yes. Thank you, Hermione," Harry said quietly. We sat down at the table and Ron shuddered. I would not say anything to him; he did not want to be spoken to. Harry picked up the daily prophet and began to read it with disinterest. It was a distraction from the awkwardness. Hermione set a plate of eggs and toast before us and sat down herself. She sighed silently. There was nothing she could do.

"Where are we going next?" Ron said quietly, looking up from his tea.

Harry cleared his throat and said uneasily, "Well…erm…I was thinking we could go to Grimmauld Place." Ron nodded calmly, as still as a Buddha.

"When do we leave?" he asked again, his voice low.

"I was thinking later today, around noon, maybe," Harry answered. Ron looked down at his watch and was relieved. I could tell he did not want to stay in this house any longer. I wondered what time it was. I looked to the kitchen clock. An hour to noon.

Harry barely touched any of the food on his plate, nor did I, nor did Ron, nor did Hermione. "Excuse me," he said and stood up.

He left the room and I went after him a few minutes later. I went up the stairs and found Harry in a nursery. It was a big, airy room smelling of must and inhabitance. The walls were painted with a mural of unicorns and dragons and sphinxes and other magical creatures. It was a room fit for a baby prince, I noted as I looked up at the grand chandelier which hung above head. I wondered how Harry would be if Lily and James had lived. He would not be famous, no, but would he still be friends with Ron? Would he be a spoiled brat? Would he even look twice at me? Maybe it was better they died, I thought. I realized it was a cruel thought, and I would never relay it back to Harry, but there was a lot of truth behind it.

I saw him leaning over a bassinet, like he was watching a sleeping baby inside of it. "What are you doing? I asked him softly. He jumped up, startled.

"Oh…erm…well, this was my room as a baby, I think," Harry said. He bit his lip and he was trembling. Poor Harry, I thought to myself. He looked so dependant and vulnerable, his eyes on me like I was a cure for his sadness. I walked over to him and slipped my arm in his.

I heard him breathing heavily beside me. I patted his arm and said, "I know, Harry. It's ok." As if my words were permission, he fell onto a sofa and buried his face in his hands. I could see his chest moving up and down rapidly; he was sobbing silently. I sat down beside him and pulled his head into my lap. I stroked his hair and clucked my tongue with consolation as he cried. I had never seen him like this before. All this time he was trying to be so strong for me and Ron and Hermione and now, being here, was a lot for him to take. There was nothing I could say, nothing I could do.

Parvati's POV

I ruthlessly took a swig of gin to calm my nerves. It was done. Over with. Since this morning, I was now Mrs. Weasley. How disgusting the name sounds! I am not some fat red haired woman with a whole litter of children. I did not slave over a hot stove all day, cooking and baking endlessly, hour upon hour. I was not Mrs. Weasley. My heart knew and my head knew that I was still Miss Patil, Miss Parvati Patil.

I walked with my husband, (how crude and strange it is to be married), down the streets of Bombay. He looked up and down and side to side, in awe. I was not impressed with Bombay. I knew it like the back of my hand. He exclaimed at every single cow that walked freely down the streets, like a human. I imagine he would have been out of breath in five minutes, but he wasn't. He rambled on and on and on about nothing. He had been doing that since we had left the wedding this morning. He would not shut up.

His palm was sticky with sweat as it held on to mine and I tried not to snatch my hand away. He was the only one who I knew rich enough and malleable enough to help me find Padma. Nowhere in my heart did I love him. I loathed him. He disgusted me. I was bound to him though, forever, but at least I would have Padma with me. That is all that mattered.

I tried to imagine our children. Strange little ones with tan skin and dark eyes and red hair. They would not be attractive, I imagine.

My heart panged as the sky turned a fiery red and I realized how much I had missed India. I pined for my hometown of Prashpur. I preferred the small village of Prashpur to the overcrowded streets of Bombay. Prashpur was like my own personal Garden of Eden. Fields of sugarcanes and poppies grew dense and in the heart of the village was a great Hindu temple.

When Padma and I were young, we used to make crowns of poppies and declare ourselves the lost Princesses of Prashpur. This would keep us entertained for hours. We would dress up in our mother's fancy saris and paint our lips with her coral colored lipstick and trade our little gold ball earrings for her fancy, bigger ones. We would sit on the terrace, overlooking our kingdom while our servants would bring us tea and sweets. We did not have a taste for tea when we are younger, we just thought it looked elegant, and when the serving maids turned their backs, we would pour the tea into the rose garden.

The game we played was based on a legend. Our house was originally a palace. Hundreds of years ago, it was built for the Princes of Maharashtra as a summer palace. The last prince, Prince Kabir, was the best prince Maharashtra had ever seen. He was handsome, scholarly, generous and a fair ruler. He loved his wife Neerja greatly, and when she died, he was bereaved. From his wife, he had no sons, but two beautiful daughters, Ahisma and Indira. When the British came to India, Prince Kabir had tried to fight back, but they imprisoned him. However, before Prince Kabir was imprisoned, he had hidden his daughters away safely in a tower deep in the forest. Kabir died, and the princesses were never found. They became known as the "lost princesses of Prashpur," Padma and I played this game like it was real, like we were the princesses reincarnated.

The palace was my childhood home, and it was also like one, large, elegant playground. In the south side of the house, there was a grand tower which overlooked the garden, and beyond that, a great crystal lake and the village of Prashpur. At night, if I looked through my telescope, I could see the lights of Bombay against the dark canvas of the night sky. When I was little, I thought that I was seeing the whole world outside my window. That the tower was so high, that I thought I could see as far as Paris. As I grew, I came to realize that the tower was only four stories high, not nearly as big as the Eiffel tower or Big Ben or the empire state building.

In my heart, I was still Princess Parvati of Prashpur. It was like a tongue twister, all of the p's. Yet, I was the same princess, just older and wiser and married, but I could still play the game. I was playing alone now, and the game was a little more dangerous, but I could win, and I would win.

The sun fell out of the sky and Bombay lit up with artificial lights. "It's dark out, wife," George said to me, "Shall we find a place to sleep?"

"Yes," I said dismissively. Beside me, George was growing excited at the celebrations that would take place on his wedding night. I, however, was not.

We checked into a hotel, a cheap shabby place, just for the night. The room was badly lit and the mattress lumpy. I was not pleased. I closed my eyes and imagined I was on my bed in Prashpur, with the rich, silk bed spread and the soft candlelight that lit up the room with a wonderful orange glow. My window was thrown open, letting in the cool, night breeze after a humid day. The crescent moon was glowing and the lake was as still and as calm as ever. The village was quiet, an odd window lit in each house.I wanted to be a little girl again, like I was a few weeks ago, not somebody's wife.

I turned to George and I said, in a fake yet apologetic voice, "George, I am having my period tonight." His face fell and he nodded solemnly as he accepted the news. He kissed me goodnight and turned over in the bed. I felt no sympathy for him. I did not want to sleep with him tonight. I did not have to. I would wait until he was fast asleep, and then I would leave quietly and go looking for Padma.

* * *

_A/N: Please review!_


	21. The Dark Mark

**Ahhh—I have not updated for so long. Sorry, I guess, if any of my old readers are still reading this. Enjoy!**

* * *

Harry's POV 

We all sat at the kitchen table—maps and plans spread before us, parchment stained with drops of tea and spots of orange marmalade from our breakfast. "All right," I began, taking a bite of my toast, "we're in Wales right now, we have to make it back to London. I want the time frame to be at least two days. We will have to keep a low profile traveling, we cannot apparate—I don't know the extent of the enemy lines or how safe it is."

"Then how are we supposed to get to London, Harry?" Ron said, tiredly.

"Muggle travel," Hermione muttered.

"Do we have any Muggle money?" Ginny asked.

"I have some," Hermione dug through her pocket and placed some bills on the table, "I don't think it will be enough though," she finished sadly.

"I think we need more time," Ron said, gripping his girlfriend's hand.

"No. We've wasted three days already, at Godric's Hollow doing nothing. We have to leave today before we are found. Ron, must I remind you that we are not only on the run from both the Order and the Deatheaters?" I was surprised at the power and briskness I was communicating with.

"I see," he responded.

"Sorry, mate. I'm just uptight today," I apologized.

"No worries."

"Wait," Ginny began slowly, "that's what Muggle money looks like?"

"Yes…," Hermione said.

"I saw some of it upstairs! Lots of it…I didn't know what it was though so I didn't say anything. There were many bills, twenties, fifties, hundreds. They were all locked in a closet in the upstairs corridor!" Ginny expatiated with excitement.

"Are you serious? Go get it, Gin," I told her as she ran off on a mission to get the money. "Good. Everything seems to be falling into place now." Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Harry," Ron started, "You know what I find odd?"

"What mate?"

"All the records and reports say that your house was destroyed the night you got the scar," he said.

I looked around at my vast and beautiful house, weathering at the seams and I nodded my head and said I knew. But here it was—my home in the flesh. It was undoubtedly mine, judging from family heirlooms engraved with "Potter" and countless albums of photographs from my early days and of my parents as vibrant, smiling youths. "It's all here Ron," I said, leaning back in my chair, "it's all here."

Ginny came back, arms full with wads of bills. "Oh my lord," Hermione remarked, "Come, put it down on the table. Let's count it." The bills were crisp and unused, fastened with paper straps that gave them the appearance of an illegal money deal, which it very possibly was. It came out to a total of €250,000, not including the €6.75 that Hermione had.

"This is more than enough," Hermione remarked. "We should only take some of it though—each of us should take at least €900—the rest we will put back in the safe and collect if we need to."

"You're a smart girl, Hermione," I said.

"Well, what else is new?" she said pompously as we all laughed at her.

We left shortly after nightfall. The house appeared as it had been before—uninhabited, haunted. Silently, I bade my home goodbye and knew I would be back someday—when all of this was over and when Ginny was my wife. We would have many children, and raise them in this house. The ancient Potter residence. I promised myself this.

As we made our way out of the magical side of Godric's Hollow, we stopped at the Cadwallader's house, searching for Aelwyd. A maid showed us to the immaculate living room and conjured cups of tea. We sat in silence for a few moments, until Aelwyd came down the stairs in astonishing deep green dress robes, adorned with pearls and emeralds. "She looks like the Slytherin queen," Ron muttered.

"Oh shut it Ron. She's been nothing but kind to us—and plus, she was in Hufflepuff, not Slytherin," Hermione said.

"Sorry," Ron replied.

"It's ok."

"I think she look marvelous," Ginny said, and we all agreed.

"Ahh—my favorite new friends," Aelwyd greeted us in her distinct voice, kissing each of us on the cheek. "What the matter?" she asked, "How can I help you? Unfortunately, I have to leave for a party in an hour, but do tell me what is going on."

We told her of our plans, and as I had expected, she was more than happy too help us. "One moment," she said, as she twirled her wand around her and was dressed in her barmaid outfit. We floo to the pub and Aelwyd gave us instructions. "I am going to take you to the ferry dock, and you will get on the next possible boat. Once you reach the mainland, you will then go find the bus station. It is directly across the street from the port. You will take the 11:30 bus to London. Here," she said worriedly, "I will write it down in case you forget." She scribbled away on a napkin at the bar and handed it to Hermione. I took a handful of peanuts and shoved them into my mouth. I was not hungry—I was eating out of apprehension.

I noticed it was lightly drizzling outside, and I pulled up the hood of my grey sweatshirt. Ginny clutched my arm tightly. I could tell she was nervous. I noticed how Gryffindor's ruby studs sparkled in her ears when she moved her head, the reflection dancing in her bright eyes. I checked my watch, which did not show the time, but merely said "Good going, Potter! Almost there!" I did not know what that meant, specifically, but there were no complaints.

We arrived at the docks, and climbed aboard the dilapidated ferry. There were three other passengers besides ourselves; one an old toothless lady, a strange, teenage boy with suitcases, most likely on the run, and a wealthy looking middle aged man. I wondered if he was a wealthy wizard from the other side of the island. This was confirmed when he and Aelwyd greeted each other joyously, and told us that the man was in business with her husband. She did not reveal our identities, only that we were school friends with her son, Owen and our names were Michael, Ellen, John and Cleopatra. Aelwyd hugged each of us goodbye, and as she leaned in to hug me, she whispered, "Don't talk to that man—we don't know which side he's on. I don't think he's a danger to you, but stay on guard."

* * *

Parvati's POV 

I made it. I had escaped successfully and was on horseback, riding into the night to Prashpur. Shocks ran through my body—shocks of excitement laced with sorrow. I knew Padma was alive. I could feel it in my bones, in my blood. If she had died, I would have died along with her. There would have been a signal, a sign. Padma was my other half. I had to find her. Despite our constant fights, I knew the good outweighed the bad. She had all my trust, I told her everything, and she me. I wished I could tell her about the marriage I had unwillingly made for myself in order to find her. Poor George, that stupid, mistaken fool.

The air was hot and sticky, even without the blistering sun of high noon. _Padma, I'm coming. Padma, I'm almost here._ I was on guard for people—the roads could be dangerous at night. I glanced behind me, and my heart thudded nervously as I saw someone riding behind me. I kicked the horse and it picked up speed into a steady canter, but this person was gaining on me. The night was dark and I could not see his face. I kicked the stallion again, and it went faster. I was losing control, I was losing balance. I couldn't hold my seat at such speeds. I found myself laying on the ground, the dangerous stranger hovering above me. Trembling with fear, I laid still atop the tall grass.

"You think I'm just some daft fool, don't you Parvati?" the figure addressed me angrily.

"George?" I mustered weakly.

"Yes, Parvati, it's me." I could see the outline of his pale skin and red hair in the moonlight. He sat down beside me and I gave him my hand to help me up. He pushed it away as if it was white hot and he didn't want to get burned. "You don't love me, do you?" he asked through gritted teeth. I didn't respond. "Answer me, Parvati," his voice was softer now, gentler and I could tell he was upset and fatigued.

"Well it's not that simple, George," I told him.

"Isn't it?" We sat in silence for a moment, staring out into the open plain before us, shadowed by the night and highlighted by the moon. "You know what—you don't even have to answer." I could tell he was fuming mad—repulsed by me when he had been so infatuated with me a few short hours ago. I had misjudged him. He was no daft fool. He was a living, breathing human being who I had hurt. I wished circumstances could be different but they weren't.

"Why are you staring at me? George asked icily.

"I don't know."

George tutted. "So now you choose to make a mockery of me," he said rhetorically.

"No, George, I don't."

I watched him as he played with the grass beneath him, his bright eyes dark with rage and hurt. I wanted to touch him—to put my hand above his in some reassuring gesture, but I didn't know how. I had never been one for emotions, and it would be worse if I made a kind move now. He would not tolerate it. Poor George. Stupid me.

"I'm coming with you," he said calmly, after awhile.

"Coming where?"

"With you—to find your sister."

"No! I mean…why would you want to even come? And you can't—I have to do this on my own."

"I'm coming with you. You're my wife," he said the last word as if it was poison, "and I at least want to know what my money is going into." He gestured to the bag of galleons I had stolen from him before I left.

I did not want to be with him. I did not love him and he did not love me. I wanted to do this alone, but I couldn't say that now—and I could use his help, if he chose to help me.

"Parvati—do you have any idea how difficult it is to get a divorce?" he groaned. "We have to appeal to the Wizengamot and present our case—one which we don't really have, other than your stupidity."

"Divorce?" I choked.

* * *

Ginny's POV

The ferry ride was a bleak affair. It was raining, and there was no place for shelter. There was an odd woman aboard, an old woman, petting a chubby cat and repeating the phrase, "Watch out for the captain of the ferry—he's a real quail," to herself. Upon first muttering those words, the captain winced and eyed the woman strangely, and perhaps contemplated whether or not to throw her overboard. The strange teenage boy, I noticed, was hungrily eyeing my ruby earrings and I did best to hide them behind my orange hair. And the other wizard—well, he was quiet and seemed friendly, but we avoided him nonetheless, following Aelwyd's advice.

My fingers intertwined with Harry's throughout the ride, and I buried my head in his lap, his sweatshirt covering me so I wouldn't get wet. Ron was asleep against Hermione, and like always, her nose was buried in a book that she had borrowed from the Potter's library. We arrived in a small, seaside town in northern Wales called Port Abbey. When we got there, it was 11:15, and we had to be on the bus in fifteen minutes. We bought our tickets and got on the bus. Harry and I found a free seat next to a quiet looking man reading a book. I rested my head against his shoulder and fell asleep.

I woke up, and found Harry asleep. I stretched and yawned and glanced over at the man beside me, still reading his book. He had rolled up his sleeves, and my heart pounded wildly as I realized that the brand on his forearm was a dark mark.

* * *

_Please review if you want me to keep writing! Thank you darlings!_


	22. India

**I've been on a fanfiction writing roll it seems. Thank you for the umm…two people that reviewed on the last chapter. Thank you a lot. PLEASE MORE PEOPLE REVIEW!!!! Reviews make me happy…**

* * *

**Charlotte's POV**

"Charlotte," a hand gripped my arm from behind and I spun around to face my brother, "I'm in such shit. Draco is missing."

"Are you serious?" I said in disbelief. A huge knot formed in stomach and I felt as if I would throw up. My dream from last night came rushing back to me like a storm. "Oh my god," I muttered to myself, leaning against a wall in order to keep my balance.

"You know where he is, don't you," Ian hissed at me, furiously. "I noticed how friendly you two were—if you helped him get away, you have to tell me now, Charlotte. I'm not kidding."

"I swear to god!" I gasped, "I didn't help him, Ian, believe me!"

"Charlotte—frankly I don't believe you. You've always been a stupid, little liar and now is one of those times, isn't it?" He pinned me against a wall, his eyes filled with rage and his breathing rapid. _Just like our childhood fights_, I thought.

"Ian, it's not nearly my fault that you let him escape," I retorted angrily, pushing him away from me, "Draco was your responsibility and you were supposed to keep a close watch on him at all times. I suggest that you go tell the Order right away before you get into deeper trouble than you already are." I walked away with an air of superiority, leaving Ian dumbfounded in the middle of the hallway.

* * *

**Parvati's POV**

The sun was just beginning to rise, leaving the sky a musky orange with the shine of the new day. We had been riding all night, side by side in complete silence. I had a newfound respect for George, but dared not to mention it.

George broke the silence: "Was this your plan?" he questioned me with vigor, "To marry me, bring me to India, steal my money and ditch me? You know, you simply could have stolen my money and spared me my heart."

"I'm sorry, George," I responded. There was nothing else to say. I felt empty inside, bringing back recollections of when I did something wrong as a child and my parents would be disappointed in me. That was the worst feeling in the world, however, what I was experiencing now was far worse and I couldn't clean my room and give my parents a hug to make up for my mistake.

"Your apologies are meaningless," said George.

"I really messed up," I whispered.

"You did, Parvati, you really did."

We rode for awhile longer, until the sun was beaming in the morning sky, painted an endless blue with no clouds to offer shade. "Are you hungry?" he asked me.

"We should be at my house soon. The servants will give us breakfast."

"Do you really think any servants will still be there?" He grunted at my idiocy, something he had become accustomed to doing. I was ashamed at his hate for me, but, I wondered, why was he still here? He could have taken the money back, and left me alone, if he could not stand to be with me. I glanced at him; his body stiff and awkward as a calming tempest. _Poor George_, I thought, _poor George_.

"No," I shook my head, and it dawned upon me that my life was in ruins. My house, which once was a sprawling, palatial home amongst the fields of poppy, has most likely been destroyed—all the servants that once inhabited it having fled. My parents were dead, my sister missing, but I had doubt that I would find her. And I had a husband, but now no longer do in anything but name.

We neared the village of Prashpur; in the distance I could see the simple but elegant Hindu temple, and the shops and houses and farms. Along the roadside on the outskirts of town, we stopped at a small farm, where the farmer's fat wife prepared us dosas and tea. As we waited, her daughter came out to keep us company. She was around my age, and surprised that I was married to someone from England. I laughed as we conversed in Hindi while George sat clueless, sipping his tea and staring off into the distance. For a moment, I imagined she was Padma, and that I had been reunited with my beloved sister. Though I knew she was not, a slight pang of hurt filled me as I heard her mother call from the kitchen, "Dipali! Dipali!" and the girl, at the beckoning of her name, stood up to help her mother. She had a mother, I thought with sadness.

I burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably as George surveyed me with distaste. Dipali and her mother came out with the dosas and handed one to George and I, and upon seeing my sorrow, they began to fret, the mother encasing me in her maternal grasp, her scent of lavender and cooking reminding me of my own mother. "Thank you," I said to them, once I had calmed down a bit, "but my husband and I should be on our way now. Thank you very much; it was nice to meet you." I grasped their hands in thanks and handed them money, which they refused, instead kissing me on the cheek and saying that if I ever needed anything to come to them. They pitied me for the loss of my family—the whole town knew of it. Though we were the richest family in the village, we were not despised. My mother had cooked for and donated clothing to the poor and my father gave money. We were a well respected family, and no one knew we were witches and wizards. They assumed Padma and I just went to a British boarding school because we were economically able.

Once out of earshot, George turned to me. "What were you discussing with those ladies?" he asked me coldly atop his horse.

"Well they knew my parents, and they were discussing the recent loss with me and giving their most deep apologies," I said quietly as I mounted my horse.

"They did not like me," he noted, saying this somewhat to himself while searching for my agreement.

"They do not trust foreigners," I responded neutrally.

He grunted. "How much longer until we reach our destination?"

"About fifteen minutes. If my house is not too destroyed, we could take a nap. I'm quite tired and I assume you are as well."

"Well naturally," he retorted, "as my _wife_ decided to leave me so late at night, and I, being a loving, doting fool, went after her."

I didn't respond.

We rode through the village, the townspeople stopping their business to stare at the pale, red-headed foreigner accompanying the rich, orphaned Patil girl. They came up to me, grasped my hands and offered their apologies and love as if I were a beloved princess. I thanked them all sincerely, smiling liberally across the crowd and giving them my love.

"Is it always like this?" George asked me.

"Like what?"

"Them—treating you like you're something special."

"Yes," I said silently, after a moment.

"Miss Patil! Miss Patil!" a small, elderly man ran up to me. "Your sister was found this morning."

"My sister?" I asked in disbelief. "How is she, sir? Do tell me she's alive!"

"She is, Miss Patil," he said, "She is resting in what is left of your home. However, she is not well, I must warn you."

"Thank you, sir," I said genuinely.

I rode with speed to my home while George followed me to the best of his ability; through the gates which were sprung open as if expecting someone, down the tree-lined drive and to the ruins that was my palace. I ran through the front door, as it was still standing and yelled "Padma! Padma!" I saw my maid, Sita, coming into the front hall, looking tired and disgruntled.

"Parvati!" she ran towards me, embracing me and kissing me on the cheek, her eyes filling with tears. "Oh my dear, I didn't know if you were alive, and you are well my darling! I worried so much," she told me.

"Good Sita, where is my sister?" I asked her.

"She is unwell, my dear," Sita said sadly, "She is in very bad condition, and we need a healer, but I cannot leave her. I've done everything I can—I've made several potions but nothing has worked."

"May I see her?" I asked.

"Yes, she is in the drawing room."

I followed Sita into the drawing room, where the curtains were pulled close and the room was dark and cool. Padma was bundled in several blankets, lying on the chaise. She did not look up as I came in, and as I approached her, I saw she was deathly pale and her eyes were wide and sallow. Her lips were purple and her breathing slow and heavy. I kneeled down beside her and brushed a lock of hair off her face, "Padma," I said quietly, "It's me, Parvati."

She mustered all her strength and turned her head towards me, and a small smile formed on her lips. "Parvati," she said in a small, hoarse voice.

"Oh Padma!" I embraced her suddenly, my head falling against her chest as I sobbed. Her thin arms wrapped around my neck and she cradled my head as sang an Indian lullaby to me.

"Parvati, I'm dying," she said calmly.

"No you're not," I sobbed, "I'm not going to let you die. You are not going to die. I promise. You will not die; I will do everything in my power. Sita!" I yelled, and my maid came to my side, "please check if my friend George Weasley has arrived. He has red hair. Thank you." Sita scurried away and I turned to face my sister.

"Why would George Weasley be here?" she asked me.

"I will explain in a moment," I told her as I poured her a cup of tea, "Here, drink this." I lifted the teacup to her lips, the hot liquid trickling down her throat.

"Why is he here, Parvati?" she repeated.

"I married him," I said bluntly.

"What?!" she exclaimed, using too much energy considering her condition, and launched into a horrible coughing fit. I gave her a spoonful of magical cough syrup, and she immediately regained her breath and calmed down. "Why did you marry him?" she asked.

"To save you, Padma," I said, holding her sickly face in my hands, "If you die, I die along with you."

"Parvati," a voice from the door said. It was George. I stood up and walked over to him. "How is she?"

"She's in terrible, shape George," I said, my voice quivering with fear.

"What can I do to help?" he asked earnestly.

"Please George," I said, taking his hand, "Find me the best healer you can as soon as possible."

"I will," he responded, "Tell Padma to hang in there."

He turned to walk out the door but stopped as I said, "George!"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for doing this, you really didn't have to."

"No, I do, I have a twin too, in case you forgot." He flashed me a weak smile and walked out the door.

"You love him," Padma said to me. "I can tell."

"I don't love him," I replied confusedly, "I did not marry him for love. I married him because he had money and would help me find what was most important to me. You see, he was malleable, easy to control."

"No, Parvati, you love him. You just can't tell yet," she said, clutching my hand. I remarked at how cold her hands were. "And he loves you too."

* * *

_Please please please please pretty please review! Love!_


End file.
